


Little Blessed With Peace

by EmmelineKahuyan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Birth Control, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Cults, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Knotting, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Millennial Bucky Barnes, Nesting, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Slow Burn, War Veteran Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 62,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmelineKahuyan/pseuds/EmmelineKahuyan
Summary: Emmy, a young Omega, has been living in a commune with her Alpha and other pairs. One night she and her Alpha are attacked. She runs away to get him help. Now with the police, more about her life there is unraveled. She realizes she was indoctrinated into a Pack and that her Alpha and the commune she'd been a part of for years, was an abusive one.Now she must recover enough in order to fully come back to society, on her own. But before she can do that she needs to spend 3-6 months with a support Alpha, at least, until her trauma no longer effects her enough to adversely affect her life.Enter James Barnes, the eldest of four, a former Army Ranger, injured by fire, and author of a pretty popular biography about his last tour overseas. He was an "It" boy for a minute, gaining popularity for his good looks and inspiring story and a few modeling gigs. Now his life has evened out. He's just living his life, visiting his family, reading, writing and drinking a lot of coffee.Until he gets a call from an Omega rehab center from Portland, Oregon.





	1. Fly

**Author's Note:**

> First time out in the Omegaverse. It's sort of different, but not. I'll post a trigger warning before every chapter if there needs to be one. 
> 
> In this case there's just blanket trigger warning on this chapter. They will vary in length. I have another one set up to go up in a few hours. 
> 
> Parts are sort of inspired by "Martha, Marcy, May, Marlene." 
> 
> Pierce is around 30. Brock and Jack and the others are younger than him by one or two years. Every one else should be the same age as The Winter Soldier timeline. 
> 
> *** I just changed the title. It's from somewhere in Othello. 
> 
> ** Changed the chapter titles. They're song titles now. It's by feeling and music and not necessarily about the lyrics.

Emmy listened, slowing her breaths so she could keep an ear out through the rain. Tonight, something definitely didn’t feel right. She scooted as deep as she could into her corner of their nesting room, clutching Lilah’s teddy bear, and wrapping Pepper’s thick quilt around her. Wincing when she twisted her wrists. She checked the thick gauze around them and tucked a finger in just to peak. With a soft tug, it came away a bit, exposing a bite that was starting to scab. Good, she didn’t need to check the others. She got them all at the same time. So if one had stopped bleeding, then they all had. In her head she saw a flash, Brock panting, teeth on her wrist trying on her scent glands and any where else. Her body didn’t work like normal Omegas, maybe this was just something she was incapable of doing, too.  
  
A muffled ‘boom’ startled her still. She swallowed, crawling over the other nesting spots, keeping the bear in her hand, scenting it when she got to the window. Omegas didn’t like windows in their nests, or rooms this big, but this whole thing was uncommon anyway. Uncommon but beautiful. Some people would say what they were doing was illegal; packs were not allowed to form. But here they were taken care of. Here, they took care of one another, protected one another. What the hell was wrong with that?  
Squinting, she pressed her head to the cold glass. There was too much fog outside, the splattering on the window further obscured her view. She walked over to the door and opened it as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake them all.  
  
It was a huge space holding two cal king beds, their bookcases that mostly had fiction and romance along with old classics like Goosebumps, and their huge TV on the wall with their bluray player, that they used for Netflix and all that. She looked at Pepper and Lilah tucked together in their bed. Teri, Helen, and Veronica lay far apart in their own with just an arm or foot touching one another under the thick blankets. Emmy’s lips pressed together, brows furrowed with concern. They were all still here.  
Boom! Emmy gasped at the sound. Was that a van?  
  
For the past few days all the Alphas were on edge, snapping, simmering with aggression that they could all feel it. Made them all tread quieter, talk softer. Maybe she was just being paranoid. She was always a little more sensitive than the other Omegas because, out of all of them, she was the only one wide awake in the middle of the night. Helen was the least bothered by everything, save for the first few weeks here. Built like a female Alpha, blonde locks, she looked perfect. In the beginning, she tended to lord around. Emmy made a point to show her how to be the right kind of Omega. How to talk the right way, how to respond the right way, how to move the right way. Eventually she quieted. Seth helped her.  
  
Then she heard footsteps outside. She couldn’t tell if it was more than one. Then a thought terrified her, what if they were all leaving them?  
  
She rushed over to her bed, “Lilah, Pepper! Wake up.”  
  
Lilah groaned. Pepper’s eyes slitted open, “What?” her voice was thick and sticky.  
  
“Something’s wrong. We’re all still here.”  
  
“So what? They’re giving us a rest for a change,” Lilah said.  
  
“No, but… Has any of them been by at all? I keep hearing noises outside. We should go look.”  
  
“You look,” Pepper tucked herself further around Lilah, while Lilah nuzzled her nose into Pepper’s wrist. “Not like Brock is gonna punish you if you get outta line.”  
  
Blindly, Lilah reached out for Emmy’s hand and scented her wrist, “Hurry up so you can come back to bed, it’s cold.”  
  
Emmy looked around for a moment. A car door slammed and an engine rumbled to life. No. She bolted down the hall, the stairs, bounding around the living area until she ran out the back door to the winding driveway. There was a van and it was already almost out of view. Immediately, she calmed when she found Brock at the end of the driveway.  
  
“Brock,” she grinned, jogging over, and hugged him from behind. He reached around to hold her, pulling her to face him. She took a big whiff of her Alpha. Fresh tree branches and salt. Everything was fine she was safe, but there was something in his scent, it felt sharper in her nose, “Baby, what’s wrong?”  
  
Brock leaned back and grinned, she reached up and scratched the scruff on his chin, he nuzzled into her touch, “Nothing gets past you, sweetheart. That’s what I like about you.”  
That word annoyed her. Liked. He wanted to mate her, been trying for years, but none of them ever took. She wanted to be mated. He took care of her. He treated her better than any of the other Alphas treated their Omegas.  
  
“Change. Big change, sweetheart,” he looked down and Emmy wondered if he was gonna kiss her, instead he reached down and fingered her necklace, tracing the chain that hung just above her collarbone. He stopped his thick fingers just above the name she used here: Ever. Here, she had two names. They all did. If an Alpha wasn’t home and someone called, they were all instructed to give their name as “Ella” and all Alphas were “Charles.” It was safer that way.  
  
“But’s it’s bad change, isn’t it? Who was in that car? Where are the other Alphas? Why are you all alone out—”  
  
He gripped her neck, “What’d I tell you about asking too many questions?” And let her go.  
  
She looked down, “I’m sorry,” and cleared her throat. “I was just worried all the alphas were leaving us.” Emotion burned in her chest, “I thought you were leaving me,” her voice broke, and tears welled in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight, she instinctively scented him again. It failed to completely comfort her.  
  
“I’ll never leave you, Ever. Understand?”  
  
They pulled apart. Brock thumbed the wetness away from her eyes.  
  
“Say, you wanna go into town?”  
  
Emmy perked up, “Really?” She hadn’t been in years. None of them were allowed. Pierce’s orders. Another thing, he hadn’t been by in months now. “Are we all going tomorrow?”  
  
“No. No, now. You and I,” he emphasized. “We. We’re going.”  
  
Emmy looked down. Why now? It was dark. Everyone was asleep. Pierce said that they could only go into town if they were bonded, or if they all went together as a group. That hadn’t happened with any of them yet. She kept all her questions in. It was already too soon that she asked too many questions. She’d seen him go at it with the other Alphas. There were plenty of times it was close to getting ugly, but the aura that Brock gave off was enough. If he wanted to, if Emmy goaded him enough, he could break her in one punch. She was lucky he had enough control. There were a few times, usually Helen, and sometimes Pepper an Alpha had to put them in their place with a slap or even a Bark. Brock never did that to her, she was lucky.  
  
He looked down at her bare feet, “Shit, you don’t have shoes!”  
  
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”  
  
“It’s OK, sweetheart,” he looked back to the house for a second, like he was checking for something. Then he leaned down and lifted Emmy up, settling well under her knees, so close to his other failed mating bites.  
  
Brock walked on, “Babe, reach into my right pocket”. Emmy thought about where she should reach, before she acted. She pulled out a roll of hundreds, e yes wide, that was a shit-ton of money, “If we get separated, I want to go get yourself together and get to Sorghum. I’ll find you,” he was huffing, carefully going around trees and over what was on the ground until the land leveled out. 

They passed an area with a permanent grill, a sign she didn’t get to read and a table with benches. So, they were in the park adjacent to their cabin now. She looked out and could see the few lights of the town twinkling.  
  
“Separated? Why would we be--?”  
  
A hard scent hit her nostrils, like concrete and lemon. Brock set her down, “Babe, I need you to run.” Emmy didn’t move.  
  
“I’m beggin’ you.” He looked like he was about to cry for a moment, before he hardened his face and ordered her to “go.”  
Emmy ran. Looking behind her she saw Jack gaining ground on her. Brock jumped him as they rolled on the ground. Jack’s fist connected with Brock’s cheek. She felt it force in her own head. Jack could kill him. But Brock was stronger. Then why was he so scared? “Go!” Brock choked out, and socked Jack in the chest.  
  
Emmy ran, wincing as rocks cut into her feet before she finally hit the expanse of wet grass. Her feet lost purchase on the slick ground. Blindsided, she laid there for a moment before her body sprung back up. She had to help Brock. She needed to get to a police station now.


	2. Wake Me Up

  
Thankfully, it was a small town and everything was in the little “downtown” area. The sheriff’s station was at the end of all of it. Emmy stared at the door. Even from here, she could smell ink and ditto paper. Inside, phone was ringing. Footsteps walked over, their owner finally cast a shadow on the opaque glass on the door. Emmy held in her breath and stopped moving, afraid that someone on the other side would open it before she was ready. Then she smelled it, an Alpha was on the other side. She needed to help Brock. She needed to go in but even so, she couldn’t move. The phone rang again and the figure finally left.  
  
Emmy sighed deep and opened the door. She wasn’t really here, was she? The station was mainly empty, and looked out of date, compared to the movies she saw. One officer sat at their desk and that one damn Alpha was totally out of sight.  
The officer looked up from her computer screen, and walked over to the main desk to talk to Emmy. She had big doe eyes, and smelled like green apples, an Omega. “Oh, sweetie.” She grabbed a grey blanket from a thin closet in the nearby wall and set it around Emmy’s shoulders, guiding her to a bench that spanned the wall. Emmy winced with the touch and sat.  
  
The officer squatted just to the side, “I’m Deputy Hill.”  
  
“My Alpha needs help.”  
  
Then she felt his presence again, and looked up at the tall black man staring at them; bald, a faint scar in the corner of his eye. She swallowed, her body straightened against the wall, head turning till it was flush against the wall and shut her eyes.  
  
“This is Sheriff Fury. Miss, it’s—”  
  
Then silence. Emmy swallowed, and saw Deputy Hill looking back at him. He sighed, but he didn’t smell angry. That was different. And then he just left. When he was completely out of Emmy’s view she relaxed, turning back to the Deputy Hill.  
  
She grabbed her shoulders, “In the park, my Alpha was fighting another Alpha. It was bad. You have to help him. He’s gonna kill him!”  
“What park? Who’s gonna kill him?”  
  
“I don’t know. There was a picnic area and a hill. He has a hair, the other one is like going bald.” She shut her eyes trying to remember anything else. “Uh, there were no cars parked on the side of the park where I got out. Like, one car was there. Not far from here.”  
  
The deputy thought a moment, stood up and talked into her little radio.  
  
“We got a possible 217 with two Alphas at Prospect park, the east or west picnic area.”  
  
“We’ll have this sorted out, OK?”  
  
Emmy nodded and pulled the blanket around her shoulders and scented it. Disappointed that it just smelled like cotton and wool.  
  
“Here,” she held out her arm. “You’ll be more comfortable over here.”  
  
Emmy followed her.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Maria, Deputy Hill, had given her some hot chocolate and made sure she knew it was the chief’s hot chocolate. There was something that didn’t sit right with her. He seemed nice. She asked her more questions, asked for names and descriptions. Emmy didn’t mention the house just yet. Maybe they’d all get away and go back to their lives, maybe they all had the same kind of conversation with their Alphas and were all on their way to their own perspective lives. But why now? And in the middle of the night? She never got to spend a last day with everyone, say goodbye.  
  
Emmy sipped and ate the last mini marshmallow in her cup, looking up at the TV as an episode of Friends played. The chief stood by the door, his smell was muted, but still smelled like all kinds of peppers. It was nice. He could probably smell her distress, which was why he kept circling back to the door and away again. She wanted to ask if there were more marshmallows. But a voice told her she needed to be thankful for what she was given.  
  
She relaxed and noticed he was back this time, coming in. He kept his gaze down and took small steps to the table between them. Emmy balked at his demeanor.  
  
He placed a magazine on the table, promptly leaving again.  
  
She looked down and it was a Time magazine and reached a shaky hand out, excited. Holy shit! They had only been allowed to read stuff like Allure or Cosmo. She’d asked Brock for a Psychology Today, but he told her that she couldn’t read shit based on the field founded by an antiquated Alpha. She pulled her hand back. Was this a trick? She watched the door. He didn’t come back. Brock was strong. What if he had to kill Jack? Either way, as long as he didn’t use excessive force, he’d be acquitted; self defense.  
  
Her eyes skimmed the articles featured. Business with China, the responding economy and then the date. February 24, 2014. Her could feel her heart pound in her chest. They were only supposed to stay there for a few months. She knew it had been a while, the changing seasons. It couldn’t be.  
Emmy walked over to the door. She could test the sheriff and ask for more marshmallows. His door was open, she could see his hand on his desk and the sound of something metal shaking. She recognized that sound, but she didn’t know what it was called. It wasn’t shaking. It was clinking. He had one of those ball things, where you pulled one away, as it connected back with the other balls, the ball on the far side was thrown out and it fell back, repeating forever. She knocked and leaned into view, before stepping into the doorframe.  
  
He looked up with a smart smirk, “Well, look who it is. Enjoying the hot chocolate?”  
  
“Yes, thank you, Alpha,” she looked down and touched her hand to her pendant. “Do you have anymore marshmallows?”  
  
“Do we have anymore marshmallows? How the hell you expect me to drink hot chocolate without marshmallows?” He stood too quickly for Emmy, but either he didn’t see her start or was just gonna ignore it. He walked past Emmy and back to the lounge. He opened a cupboard and reached all the way up. Emmy would have had to climb onto the counter and stand to reach all the way up there. He brought over a half-full bag of mini-marshmallows tied at the top. He patted his stomach, looking at it, before handing the bag to Emmy, “It’s probably for the best you know—”  
  
His walkie chirped, she could hear Maria’s voice but not the message. When had she left? “Copy that,” he frowned at Emmy.  
  
“We should go to the next room.”  
  
Emmy turned to leave the marshmallows on the table and followed the sheriff. This was going to be bad, she knew.


	3. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blanket trigger warning.

  
“So, what exactly are we looking at here, Hill?” Fury had his hands spread out on the main desk, leaning slightly forward.  
  
“I—I don’t know, chief.” She swallowed. “I just don’t know. Carter is getting a forensics team u-up there,” Hill looked down and paced.  
  
He balked, reeling back in disbelief, “Forensics? I thought this was just an out-of-hand bull fight.”  
  
“No, no. She found tracks around the camp site. Followed them to see where they led.” She looked up at him straightening, running a hand through her hair, “She found a cabin and five, freshly dead Omegas out on the grass.”  
  
“Jesus.”  
  
“They were still warm. If she had just gotten there sooner. If we—”  
“You think this girl knew?”  
  
“She came in wearing pajamas and no shoes and she looked like she’d been through something. It had to be the other one. Or maybe they have nothing to do with the other.”  
  
“She’s already in Interrogation.” He thought for a thick moment. “A house in the park? But that old Washington place has been abandoned for years! How in the hell—”  
  
“No, boss. That place was running. Electricity. Water. A couple satellite dishes on the roof. Inside was a palace. I’m talking mink nesting blankets, top-of-the-line TVs in most of the rooms, gaming systems, and Japanese eggs. Someone loaded was paying the bills.”  
  
“And housing a harem of Omegas,” he turned back to look at the door to the room Emmy was in. “I finally got her with some marshmallows,” he sighed.  
  
“How did you find my hiding spot?”  
  
He smirked, “You didn’t find my new one.”  
  
“We have to get her to Banner.”  
  
“Let me talk to her, boss.”  
  
Fury nodded, “See if she’s gonna give us anything else.”  
  
***  
  
Emmy stared at the two-way mirror, wondering if anyone was staring back. It was just like in the movies and those crime shows. She missed them, especially the Law and Orders. Alex and the other Alphas didn’t like it when they watched them and that was the end of it. Maybe now that she was out, she could again. With Brock. When she heard shuffling outside the door, Emmy hopped right back in the chair. The metal legs skidded on the floor, grating her ears and teeth for a second.  
  
Hill opened the door and sat in the chair in front of Emmy.  
  
“Deputy Hill.”  
  
She hesitated like she wanted to tell Emmy something, “My partner and I took a stroll out there looking for the two Alphas, but instead found a house in the woods. Can you tell me anything about that?”  
  
Emmy sucked in a breath. Shit. She shook her head to herself.  
  
“Do you know anything about that house up there?”  
  
Emmy swallowed. She felt like she was legit in an episode of Law and Order. Fuck. Should she tell her? Would they all get arrested? Was she in trouble? How could she keep everything to herself and not lie to a cop. “Do you know anything about Brock? Is he OK?”  
  
Hill looked at Emmy with soft eyes, but there was something there. She didn’t trust her now, not in this room. “Carter didn’t find any Alphas up there or anywhere yet. Is there something you wanna tell us?”  
  
“What does that have to deal with Brock?!” Emmy’s eyes flared, her hand slammed on the metal table, surprising them both. She wasn’t quick enough, her sleeve rolled up exposing her bandaged wrist.  
  
Hill eyed her her wrists, “At this point, it seems like the fight ended in a way that they both came away, most likely relatively unscathed. He’s your Alpha. He’ll find you. You know his number?”  
  
Emmy looked down. She didn’t have that. Just a ton of cash and the name of his hometown. “I don’t know anything about a house.”  
  
“I believe you,” she smiled, grasping Emmy’s hand sincerely.  
  
Guilt swelled, twisting in Emmy’s stomach.  
  
“So, what’s that on your wrist?” Hill was speaking softer and softer now.  
  
She pulled it back, cradling it with her other hand and inadvertently showing her other wrist to the deputy.  
  
“Emmy, have you hurt yourself recently? Look, if you’ve tried to kill yourself—”  
  
Emmy laughed frantically, “No! No!” This was just getting worse and worse. That’s an automatic 24hr psych hold. She dug and tore medical tape off, unravelling the gauze and showed her the deep horseshoe punctures on her wrist. “They heal! He tried to— But I didn’t— They didn’t take. That’s all they are! It’s just that it was recently!”  
  
“You’ve gotten these before?”  
  
“What? It doesn’t matter if I did or not! That is none of your business! I didn’t try to kill myself. I’m telling the truth—”  
  
“Are you over 18, Emmy? You know it’s not legal for any Alpha to mate you unless you’re legal—”  
  
“Of course, I’m over 18.” She always looked young for her age. The magic of Asian skin or some such nonsense that people kept telling her.  
  
“Emmy, if mating bites don’t take the first time. They’ll never take in the—”  
  
“No, no.”  
  
“It’s true. It’s a common myth actual—”  
  
”Stop it!” She pulled her feet onto her seat, clasping her hands on her ears, shaking her head, “That shit’s not real!” She slammed her hands on the desk, shaking with emotion. “I don’t work right. It’s my body that’s the problem.”  
  
“Honey—”  
  
“Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry. I—” God, she couldn’t tell her about the house, but she had to. She had to tell the truth sooner rather than later. She’d already lied. And jail was not an option. Maybe it was for the best. She took a deep breath, “There is a house. I lived there with five other Omegas. Am I going to jail now?”  
  
“Not if you tell the truth from now on. It will be better for you and your Alpha.”  
  
"The others. Are they coming here? Are they OK?" Her head swum. Lilah and Pepper. The places they'd go. They things they could do now, outside.  
  
Hill smiled, "It's going to be fine. Deputy Carter is still doing a few things. I'll see if we can all get together soon."  
“Does that mean I can go now? Can I just wait here for them?” Emmy's eyes brightened.  
  
“Not just yet, OK? Would you like us to get your bites properly dressed, at a hospital? Wouldn’t want them to get infected, right?”  
  
Emmy frowned. What the hell was Hill implying? She bared her teeth at her, all the while the deputy watched, straight-faced, for her next words. Quickly, logical thoughts took over and talked down the sudden flare of emotion. Hill was right. It was biology, Emmy knew that. Hill meant nothing more than what was outright said. Bacteria was bacteria. And broken skin was broken skin. "Yes, I'd like that. Thank you," Emmy smiled, looking down. Her emotions were all over the place.  
  
Something in the back of her head tugged at her as they walked out. She smiled at Sheriff Fury. This might be the last time she'd ever see him. She didn't even know why she didn't like him at first, was afraid. He was a cop. Cops were supposed to help people. Especially a small-town sheriff like him.  
  
"Good luck out there, kid."  
  
Emmy watched Hill drive. She didn't try to make anymore small talk with her, Emmy liked that. It'd been a long time since she felt the rumble of a car, the engine running, the crunch of the gravel on the tires before they hit the smoother pavement of the city highway. When she was a kid, she used to get carsick. That kind of thing just doesn't go away. So, she kept her head straight when looking out the window and pressed her hand against the cold glass, watching the condensation collect. She felt herself smile. Her hand was in the world again, reacting with it, moving it. Even if it was just for a little bit. She tugged her sleeve down, shocked at seeing the bite again. That's not what happened. Right? What lies had she been telling the Deputy? She pulled her sleeve back up and made a point not to look at her wrists for the time being.  
  
Just beyond the glass, the houses blurred into structures, then into a thick flush of trees. Her body felt thick, but hollow, and so did her mind. She was a body of air, wasn't she? Waiting. Wanting. A needle could burst her out of existence, leaving just pieces of her skin on the ground. No bones. And actually, she thought, nothing would be wrong with that.  



	4. Adia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's hospital test stuff in here. Otherwise that's it.
> 
> Actually, some mentions of stuff from Emmy's past here. So blanket trigger warning again.

It was a smell that she missed. Paper, that sterile, hospital kind of clean and the faint, stale scent of tongue depressors. She could even make out that this hospital used the same kind of inks they used in Kaiser when she went as a kid. They used to give candy back then, she always got red or grape from her doctor with the long hooked nose. Did they have candy here?  
  
She dangled her legs on the examination table. Her feet were still a good bit off the floor. She’d never made peace with being as short as she was.  
  
It wouldn’t be too long now. Just a quick looky-loo, some iodine or cream, and then done. Maybe when she was done all the other girls would be here too. A nice motel would be in order. She had enough cash for all of them for a while. And then they’d decide what to do. If the girls were still there, then she was right. The Alphas had left them all, save for Brock. Nothing deeper was bonding them to the girls anyway, none of the bites ever took. Was there something wrong with all of them?  
  
There was a quick rap at the door. It opened. Emmy settled back, as the doctor entered with jet black hair in a bun, pale skin and thin almond eyes. “Hello, Emmy. I’m Doctor Cho. I’ll be helping you with your bites this evening,” she walked over to the swivel chair and computer station just by Emmy, reached out to shake her hand and sat in the chair to log in.  
  
“How are your wrists feeling? How’s the pain?”  
  
Emmy shook her head. “No, they’re surprisingly fine. It’s just when they get touched, that they hurt.”  
  
“I’ll be sure to be careful. And when did you get them?”  
  
“Uh, like two nights ago, I think.”  
  
“Mm-hmm. From your Alpha?”  
  
Emmy nodded. Her one hand smoothed out the crinkles on the tissue under her. Stopping though, once she thought it would make her look nervous than she really was.  
  
“So you’re sexually active?”  
  
“Yes,” she looked down, laughing a little.  
  
“One partner? Or more?”  
  
At that Emmy, swallowed. She remembered her first time. “Umm, yes, but no.”  
  
“Could you please elaborate?”  
  
Emmy nodded, looking off to the side, staring at all of the standard knick-knacks, the jars of black ear stuff, the cotton balls. “There, the first time, it was someone else.” Pierce. Payment, she learned eventually. “Then it was just Brock.” She nodded, seemingly affirming it to herself. There was something more. Something she needed to ask for. The doctor seemed nice, a part of her wanted the doctor to just tell her something, get her the things she wanted but couldn’t say.   
  
“OK. So were you practicing safe sex? What sort of contraception were you using?”  
  
“Uh, I have a birth control implant in my arm,” she shook her left arm out.  
  
“Do you know what kind?”  
  
Emmy shook her head, “I don’t remember.”  
  
“And did you get that in a clinic? Do you know how long you’ve had it?”  
  
“I was on a shot for a few months and then maybe a few years ago I got the implant. They said he was a doctor. But he had jeans on, when he came to our house.” But she shook her head, laughing. “That’s ridiculous. A doctor wouldn’t wear a lab coat outside—”  
  
“That’s right. OK, hmm… Let’s see. So, I’m gonna recommend we take that thing out, so we can see what we’re working with. And we’ll get some blood working and an STI panel. Make sure you’re all good,” she smiled.  
  
Emmy looked down, chewing on the inside of her mouth, stopping only when she realized what she was doing. “Are you gonna check the rest of me? Like, make sure everything’s fine?”  
  
“That’s exactly what we’ll do,” She slapped her hands on her thighs before standing. “All the tests and everything else might take a while. I know they promised this would be quick, but now that I’ve spoken to you, that’s just not possible at the moment. I also want to also monitor you for about 24 hours, so we can get all that done. Have you eat a few meals. Deputy Hill can see you in your room, once you’re settled and we’ve got the bulk of everything done. Is that something you’re OK with?”  
  
Emmy smiled. But even though this felt right, part wanted her to run.  
  
****  
  
Up in telemetry, Emmy walked around in blue, non-slip socks and an extra gown that wrapped around the other way and tied at her stomach. She sat back in the swivel chair to finish the dinner/breakfast they’d scrounged for her; meatballs, mashed potatoes, green beans, a hard, cardboard bread roll, and a lemon-lime Shasta. When she looked up at the clock, it was almost four in the morning. She could feel her body ache now, the pinching on her wrists, neck and all over her legs, as she moved. Maybe she could sleep tonight and do everything later. But the last thing they needed to do was the exam really and the talk, everything else wouldn’t take more than a few minutes each probably. She could do this, it was only a few things more. Suddenly, she was wide awake again.  
  
The bed in her room was wide enough to fit two of her and it looked sturdy enough, so she hopped on, scooting her ass all the way up, and took in her digs. There was a small TV mounted high on the wall, curtains around the bed, and two chairs. She pulled up the remote thing till it was right next to her and turned it on, dialing the volume up to soothing, white noise levels. She took off the socks and laid them at the end of the bed. When she wanted to walk around, she’d put them on again. It was cool because she had never stayed overnight in a hospital before. And she actually liked them, since she had watched so much ER growing up and most everyone in her family worked in hospitals or was a nurse themselves.  
  
A nurse popped in to tell her she was about to talk to Deputy Hill and that others would soon be in to do everything else. Emmy felt bad, Hill had been here waiting for her for two hours. She probably wanted to sleep, too.  
  
A nurse came by with a tray of supplies, unwrapping plastic gauze packages, paper packets with swabs in them, and a tray of simple saline and some iodine. The nurse smiled as she did her work with firm, warm hands and didn’t ask her any questions. And kept a jovial mood, like she was just baking cookies at home. It made Emmy feel calm. That’s when she noticed that, so far, all the hospital staff were Betas.  
  
Then, just as soon as that nurse left, another nurse came in and took, what seemed to Emmy, a shit-ton of blood. Emmy’s eyes widened as the nurse switched out vial after vial after vial. This nurse had short hair, stocky figure, and a double chin with bright eyes and a smirk, “Hope you don’t run out before we’re done, or we’ll both be here all night,” she chuckled.  
  
This one didn’t ask about her bites either. Emmy kept expecting to have to talk about them.  
  
She bit her lips together to keep a full smile from showing. The nurse reminded her of her mother. She’d see her family again, eventually. After all this time, her mother probably thought Emmy was dead. Her father maybe cared. And Geraldine. Geraldine knew about Brock. She hoped Geraldine hadn’t snitched about him and her to their parents. He might get in trouble, especially since her Alpha dad had a freaking temper. Maybe it was better that way. Her mother wouldn’t be sad. Dad would just be pissed when she showed her face again. If she ever did.  
  
The nurse massaged her arm, just above the where the needle was tucked into, “Come on. Just one more. You think you can give us one more?” She looked up at Emmy and grinned.  
  
She gave a sharp nod, “Yes. I can. Let’s go body.” She looked at the needle in her arm and tried to will more blood to flow out. They both watched as blood slowly dribbled filling the vial a little more than half way.  
  
“Yeah, that’s good enough.” She popped the last one out and put a bandaid on Emmy’s needle stick.  
  
“Hey, uh, Do you guys still have the lollipops? Like a grape one or the red one?”  
  
“Oh, candy’s bad for you!” She laughed as Emmy grinned. “I’m just teasing,” she batted the air. “I’ll see what I can get you. ‘K?”  
  
Emmy nodded eagerly. Fuck yeah, lollipops.  
  
****  
  
Emmy watched the best infomercial with this magic copper pan. It was always on at this time. Her favorite part was the caramel stuff.  
  
“Hey, still awake?”  
  
“I’m ready,” she said, as she got up. The bed felt like it was pulling her back into it.  
  
Dr. Cho came in with a tray and pulled a metal table thing over to hold it up beside the bed. She reached down and pulled out the stirrups. “OK, here we go. Sit up here and scoot.”  
  
Emmy’s heart started beating quickly. Maybe this was the wrong thing. She could change her mind, refuse. Sighing once, she pushed down her nerves and complied.  
  
Dr. Cho had her gloved hand on her inner thigh, “Now this is gonna be cold.” She squeezed lubricant on her fingers and swiped it on her. “You’re gonna feel pressure, so I can take a peak.”  
  
Emmy tried not to make any noise when the speculum scraped open inside of her, with a click.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be less frequent during the week. See y'all soon!


	5. Come Undone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! More details!

The doctor didn’t say much during the rest of the exam, just what she was about to do next. According to Dr. Cho, everything was fine. Emmy was expecting she was going to confirm that there was in fact something wrong with her, something that said more. But an actual doctor looked at her, inspected her just to tell her she was fine. Of course the tests would tell them more. But that was body stuff, negatives and positives. Not, you’ve been trough something terrible. And there was actual incontrovertible evidence attesting to it. But no, no one could see it. Her body showed no signs that anything horrible had actually happened to her.  
  
Afterwards, they took out her implant. She’d expected it to hurt, since it’d been in her arm for a while, but it was a just a quick tug and it was out. They’d run tests on it to see what they’d given her and mentioned that Hill was on her way to talk to her.  
  
The first thing that Emmy smelled, however, was the cafeteria coffee Hill carried in with her, “How you feeling there, Emmy?” she gave a soft smile, setting her coffee cup down on the table that pulled over her on the bed. “Hope, you don’t mind if I set this here?”  
  
Emmy nodded, “No, go right ahead. How are you? You must be so tired! It’s so late and so early.”  
  
“Thanks, no. I’ll be good. It’s actually my day off now, I just had to do this one last thing today.” At that, she took out her phone. It made Emmy nervous, that did not mean good things. The worst things flashed through Emmy’s mind. But Emmy let all of them slide, not wanting to pretend they could be real. “So, we did some digging and we found a few things at the house.” Hill scrolled through phone before she held it out for Emmy to see. It was a picture of medical packets of little white sticks. There was a moment before she realized what they were. “It’s the birth control I have. But a lot of them.”  
  
“And, this?” Hill swiped to show her another picture; vials of something that sounded like Alpha hormones.  
  
“I know what they are, but I’ve never seen them at the house before. And as far as I know, I’ve never seen that many of our implants together like that.”  
  
“So, the Omegas you lived with, they had the same implants embedded into them? Dr. Cho told me a few things after she spoke with you.”  
  
Emmy frowned, “How much? I thought there was doctor-patient confidentiality?”  
  
“Don’t worry. It was just about a few things concerning the investigation.”  
  
“Investigation? I thought it was over since you couldn’t find either of them?” Emmy sat up in her bed.  
  
“There’s more. While the investigation you’d described with the Alphas is over, there is another one concerning the other Omegas.”  
  
“But they didn't do anything wrong! They're just like me. They should be here! I don’t know why—”  
  
“Emmy calm down. Tell me about the other Omegas, can you describe them, what they look like?”  
  
Emmy shook her head and took a big breath, “Lilah is Korean, short, like me, black hair, pale. Pepper is tall, a little more that average, strawberry blonde, white. Helen is tall, sorta built like an Alpha female. Teri, is tall, thin, black. Veronica is average, long hair, brown skin, Mexican. What is this exactly?”  
  
“OK, I’m gonna show you some pictures that might be hard to look at.”  
  
At that, Emmy’s stomach dropped. Her eyes filled with tears. She nodded, her voice shaky and small. “OK.”  
  
With another swipe, Hill showed her a picture of their bodies, all the girls, her friends. It was their hair, their pajamas. They were all faced down on the lawn.  
  
“Oh, god!” her voice croaked. “It’s them.” They couldn’t be gone, not just like that. “Jack. He did this. He must have! There was a van that left before I got away. Jack was the only one at or near the house. It had to be him.”  
  
Hill nodded, “OK, OK.”  
  
“I don’t see any blood. How did they— What happened?”  
  
“They died by asphyxiation.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Emmy leaned forward, Hill reached out and pulled her into a hug. She moved her head instinctively up and scented Hill. She didn’t care if it was weird, not now. Somehow the scent of apples loosened everything in her up. Everything felt easier. Even easier to cry. Emmy clutched at Hill, squeezing tighter. She’d often been told she was a tight hugger for an Omega, she was probably crushing Hill right now, but Hill didn’t pull away. She just let her do it, soon returning in earnest. Finally, Emmy sighed, and settled back into bed.  
  
“The names you’ve given us are going to be a big help. We’ll find all the Alphas. Bring Rollins to justice and the rest of them for being a part of this.”  
  
She’d just walked into this. Stayed in it. She was in college. Wasn’t she smarter than this? Brock smelled safe and good. Why was her nose wrong? Her instinct? “So, the commune, Brock, was a bad thing? I was a part of a bad thing? I walked into it.”  
  
“When people get sucked into these things, they’re usually picked out and preyed on. You were most likely picked and groomed. It’s all sweet and nice in the beginning, then when they know they have you, that’s when they put their plans into action. Coming into this Pack was not your fault. It was all the Alphas.”  
  
There was something that always bothered her. “But, they knotted me.”  
  
“Who did, honey? How?”  
  
“Pierce. The first time. I was there a while, when I found out. I had some credit card debt going to school. We went back home, to LA, on shopping sprees and it was all so expensive. We never even saw my family. I thought it was Brock’s money. But Pierce. He was the one with the cash. And when he came, Brock asked me if I’d let him have my first heat with him. I said no, at first. But it was Pierce's house, his money. We spent so much. I didn't know! I thought he couldn’t knot me because they say in school that... But he did. Afterwards it was Brock, every time. And it hurt so much.”  
  
“Emmy—Emmy. Did you want to have sex with them?”  
  
“I don’t know. I owed them. It was just that one time. And then the other times it was always Brock. It was OK. He never shared me with the other Alphas. He was always nice to me.”  
  
“Are you saying that the Alphas all shared the other Omegas? But Brock never let that happen to you?”  
  
“I was his. He never let Pierce touch me again after the first time. The other Alphas only did it sometimes, take a different Omega for a night. Just sometimes.”  
  
“Did you always want to, with Brock?”  
  
Emmy saw herself rocking, knees up, breathing hard. She couldn’t stand to look in Hill’s eyes anymore. Did she always want him? She did. But she had to have wanted him. But there were a lot of times, too… “Sometimes, I didn’t. but he wanted to. So I, uh, I did—”  
  
Hill clasped a hand on hers, “Emmy, sweetie... That’s rape.”  
  
She looked up, “But Brock cares about me. He’s my Alpha, isn’t he? Why would he do that?”  
  
“Anyone, mated or not, heat or not. That’s rape if you didn’t ask for it, if you didn’t want it. OK? When true mates find one another, their bodies start to change, Alphas form the physiological capability of knotting, not before. The hormones that they abused, there are studies and reports, it makes their scents more attractive to Omegas. Another consequence is that they can knot without finding their true mates. Brock and the others did this on purpose.”  
  
Emmy laid back down on the bed. He had wanted to hurt her. And she let him do it, for years, her first heat. She should have known it was wrong. There were stories online, magazines. Omegas spending their first heats with an Alpha. Cute stories. Funny stories. How weird, and nice they'd been. And instead, she'd had years of someone using her body, controlling where she went, what she did, and at times, even what she wore. It all washed over her and took the loud, blustery thoughts and emotions away. Now she felt nothing. She wasn't even sure she was in this body. No, she was somewhere outside. This was definitely happening to someone else. She laid her head off to the side and looked back up at the TV, when the news showed the house in the woods, their house. Emmy found herself smiling.  
  
“Emmy? I know this was a lot to take in after such a long night, but we have to discuss…”  
  
Before the camera switched to another shot, Emmy switched the channel to some cartoons. “Thank you, but I just want to sleep now.” The voice came out monotone. Was it hers? It sounded like hers. Was she actually talking? It didn't matter, everything was perfectly fine. “What else do we need to discuss?”  
  
“After Omegas go through traumatic experiences like this, they’re legally required to go to a rehab center. It’s a law that passed a few years back, to help you. I have a friend who works there, Dr. Bruce Banner. He’s great with—”  
  
“If I don’t have a choice. I don’t care. Thank you, but I just wanna rest.”  
  
“It’ll get better, Emmy. You got through the worst of it. Good luck to you.”  
  
Emmy turned over in her bed and shut her eyes. She grabbed the covers and pulled them over her and burrowed her head under the pillow, thoughts drifting to Lilah and Pepper. She never even got to tell them goodbye. But why did she have that thought if the house wasn't real. No Lilah or Pepper. No Teri or Veronica, even Helen. No Alphas and hormones or anything else. Most elaborate TV episode ever watched. Sleep came soon enough, after the smells of sweet cream and thyme surrounded her. A memory.   
  
***  
  
Brock tossed drawers open in his apartment, shoving clothes and other things in his black canvas bag. Turning his head, he chuckled, reaching under his bed, pulling out a suitcase with a few stacks of hundreds. That should hold him for a while. It was a good thing he still saved up some cash and not blown it all on frivolous crap with Ever. This didn’t have to happen. But Alex hadn’t been careful and now they were out a heavy, steady flow of cash and the right connections to keep everything going. He had this shit-show.  
  
Jack knocked him out in the woods, but didn’t finish the job. Wasn’t that something? Brock put on the news as soon as he’d heard, after he made it back to Portland as fast as he could. He watched his half-brother’s house being combed though by the freaking feds. They’d be after him too if they weren’t already. Ever. Fucking bitch ratted on him. To think, he actually thought he could trust her. There was ten thousand bucks in that roll. He wasn’t thinking. He was just trying to save her life. Fuckin’ A. She was a fucking cunt and a half. No fucking loyalty now, even if he was one of the one’s that knotted her first. God, he remembered how good she felt the first he took her. So tight, barely making enough slick to take him and his knot, especially with the Beta birth control they’d given her and rest of the girls. Repressed her pain receptors, reduced the amount of slick she could make. And when he told her that maybe her body was just made that way, she actually believed it. He made sure she felt every inch of him whenever he fucked her. He’d have that again. But first he had to get outta town, now. Hide. Then, he could get his hands on another Omega, do it again, but better. This time he knew to never let her go.  
  
He sighed, running a hand over his face. If he and Ever had gotten away sooner, he’d still have her now. If they hadn’t been separated, she’d never have left him like that. Ever was one of the good ones. It was nice to be appreciated, cooked for. She did whatever he asked, whenever he asked. And he bought her all the best things. Furs, rabbit, mink, silk pajamas, organic steaks and lobsters. He gave her the life and at night it was just her paying him back. He was a good Alpha to her.  
  
When he got to the airport, he’d shaved his beard and touched up his hair enough to look different. He had a button down and slacks, even sporting a sweater and a long coat and nice shoes. He looked just like some business guy on his way someplace. Canada would have to do for a while. He wanted to go home, but if she told the cops about their meeting spot he had to stay away from home for a while. She wouldn’t do that to him. Cops probably twisted it around, got her to say things. She wasn’t smart like that. They’d fix it somehow. All he had to do was wait it out.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a change earlier to avoid making a Christmas story. This all starts in March, not in September.
> 
> I'll update in a few days.


	6. In My Blood

Aldermont, the Omega rehab facility was just as she’d expected, cream colored up the wazoo. It looked like a convalescent hospital but had that “I’m a fancy apartment” smell. Two floors, and a basement, clinical facilities in one wing, and the rooms on the opposite end. Outside, green grass wrapped around to the back where the swimming pool was. She wasn’t exactly expecting that here. 

Elizabeth, the director, showed her to her room down the hall. The beds were just like the one she had at Portland General. Beds. One faced hers, a little closer to the wide window that stretch up halfway from to wall to just about the ceiling. 

“So, this is you. Uh, and Del’s room.”

“I have a roommate?”

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes twinkling, “He just got here two weeks ago. Thought you’d be a good match.”

Emmy looked around, wondering if he was still in the room somewhere unseen. There was a door in the other corner, lay just ajar, so he probably wasn’t in there. She’d deduced it was the bathroom. Since their more apparent closet space was just under their TV, which bolted onto a wall, of course. 

“It’s breakfast time, so he’s probably out in the common room or the dining area.” She raised her hands out, looking at the space, “You’re free to do whatever you want within the facility, except for when it’s time for group and your individual sessions with Dr. Banner.”

“How’s every one doing in here?!” boomed a voice. In came from a towering wall of an Alpha that soon appeared. He had light brown hair, and red, sun-damaged cheeks on pale skin. Emmy took an unconscious step back as he walked towards them. His smell was warm, but it was strong, very Alpha. 

Still, Emmy tried to smile to be polite. 

“You must be Emmy!” He reached out a hand. After a moment he took it back and continued on. “You’re gonna love it here! Hope to see you at crafts!” 

“Uh, maybe.” That actually sounded like fun, like she was in elementary school again. 

And he was gone.

“So that was one of the Alphas…”

Emmy frowned. She couldn’t believe she had to deal with them here too. And there was more that one.

“Sylvia does games and is here most nights. We like to keep a good mix. We’d found it was better to integrate everyone as soon as they were admitted.”

She chewed her lips together, thinking before looking up, “Are they nice?”

“We screen everyone that works here, extensively. Most of our full-staff employees started as volunteers, first in sister facilities. I assure you, you’re safe.”

Emmy nodded, not totally believing it quite yet. But it was good enough. 

Elizabeth pointed to her bed. “We have a calendar of the activities here. Please remember you have your intake appointment with Dr. Banner scheduled after lunch, the other hall, Room 20. Someone from town is coming to bring clothes of the Omega. All donations, most are from stores trying to get rid of clothes, some are from thrift stores, so you can finally get out of those hospital sweats. And your nightstand over there has a packet and a little something, too. ”

Emmy glanced over, not registering anything in that space, before turning back to Elizabeth, “So do I really have to be here from three to six months? How do some Omegas get three and some five or six? Is there something I can do? Take some pills, shots, hypnosis?”

“I’m afraid you’re sorta stuck here for a while. I understand that you want to get out—”

“I haven’t been outside by myself for years. And running to a police station does not count—”

“This is for your own good. It’s just easier with all the appointments. It’s also the law.”

“So I’ve been told, also because I’ve been asking. Ugh!” Emmy rolled her eyes. Hill wouldn’t have lied to her. Why would the law be different each person she asked, each time? Insanity was doing the same thing expecting a different result. Hadn’t she been doing that her whole life with Alphas though? 

“How far can I go out then? Like, what are the limits?’

“You can go out to the block in front, but that’s it. Emmy—”

“Just want to know. Don’t want to get in trouble now.”

“No one gets in trouble here. This is not that kind of place. If you need me, I’ll be here till five. But really anyone around is good,” she walked toward the door, turning back for a moment, “Settle in, half an hour till we have a little meaning in the common room, so we can introduce you to everybody.”

Emmy nodded and walked around to inspect her new room. She checked the closets. When she walked under the TV however, she imagined it coming off the wall and falling on her head. One closet was empty, hers. The other had lots of sweaters and lounge pants. In the corner were a pair of jeans, and a black shirt. Emmy smiled, from the size of the clothes he was thin, and less threatening even though he was an Omega. 

She looked around and felt like she was missing something. The money! She put her hand on her forehead, laughing when she remembered. She'd given Brock’s money to Hill when she left the hospital and her necklace. Hill had that too. And the money wasn’t hers. She didn’t want it or the necklace. She was Emmy, not "Ever." Maybe they could do one of those trace-y things with the numbers or something and find other others, put them in jail. They’d be in touch, but otherwise she was good to go about her life unless they thought any of the Alphas would be after her. There was the option of going home, but hell the fuck no. She opened the yellow packet and found papers. One was labeled calendar and there was some other stuff too. But she'd look at that later and tossed them onto her new bed. The little something the director mentioned, where was it? Emmy opened the drawer and found a wrapped little gift inside. She squealed excitedly to herself, and carefully slipped her fingers between tape and wrapping paper and found a small card from Deputy Hill. She’d given her a box calendar with pictures of unlikely animal friendships. From now on Emmy would know when it was. She’d be sure to call her to thank her soon. 

After all that, it was time to go to the common room. Instead of asking one of the employees who’d smiled and greeted her as they walked past, Emmy looked at the directory on the wall to find where she needed to go. Beside it, was the calendar for March. Arts and crafts with Brent, games with Sylvia, and then something that raised her eyebrow. Self-defense with Brent on Mondays and Tuesdays, in the morning at 10. She’d just missed that day’s class, but she still had tomorrow. At least she didn't have to wait a week for her first lesson. She'd always wanted to do it, almost did at UCLA.

Introductions in the common area, were just that. Nine omegas total. Nine Omegas, ever. There was room for ten, but it was always someone’s last week and just the way it’d been. Dr. Banner sat in the corner, waving and talking, but he was mostly quiet. He moved a little like a mouse, he smelled like sourdough toast and jam. Beta smells were interesting. Alphas, were things like rocks, sand, salt, and smoke, and Omegas were fruity or like cookies and cakes and things. But Betas, were usually a mix of both kinds of smells together, in a way that calmed you down. Del was there but he was quiet, too, and she learned, Brazilian. With his strong jaw, and height, he could be a model if he ever wanted to. 

The one thing that was contraband in Aldermont was caffeine. Teas, yes. Soda and coffee, no. And that included even staff. A major bummer, but was better for recovery and it was only fair. Nesting rooms and supplies available in the basement. Showers in the bathrooms by the pool. Showers before going in the pool, no exceptions. And all activities were voluntary, except for the requisite appointments. And then that was it.

Emmy walked over to her new roommate, it took her a second to recognize his scent. He smelled like jackfruit. She smiled, flitting her eyes brows up, “So, you’re Del?”

He stretched out his hand and they shook. The grip was loose and firm, somehow. Allie squeezed him tighter. “Adelfio, but people call me Del. Or Adelfio. Really, I answer to anything,” he chuckled, naturally watery eyes, had half a foot on her, and thin. 

“Emmy, short for Emilia. But I’d rather people call me Emmy.”

“Like the award?” he had a very light accent, only on some words. 

She chuckled, “Yeah. I’m no award though.”

“Aww, don't say that about yourself. You seem really cool,” he nudged her with his elbow. “Roomie.”

Emmy laughed. “Where’s this kitchen? I'm famished.”

While Emmy made a sandwich for herself, Del told her about how he’d been talking to an older Alpha when he was 14. They’d been friends in secret, because it would have looked wrong. He agreed to meet him in Portland and the Alpha trapped him in his basement. He was there for four years until he escaped. His mother was so happy to have him back, but since his father died, he couldn’t be released back to her. 

“I’m so sorry, Adelfio.”

“I was a mess when I got here. So pissed off. And this was after I was in the hospital for a week after I got out. But it’s better now. It’s only a few more months. But I’m one of the ones that needs five.”

"How'd you escape?"

"He forgot to lock the padlock. I saw him leave and I always, always tried the door. Something, a voice kept telling me to just go at it wit my shoulder. That day it opened a crack," he was chuckling. "I thought I actually broke it. But I'm not that strong. He was pulling back in the driveway, when I was walking out of the house. I ran back as fast as I could, jumped some fences. I ran to a car that was driving by and told him I'd been kidnapped. And that was it. How 'bout you?"

"They got me the boyfriend route. I was in debt and I had a bad semester and lost my cushy job at UCLA."

"Wow, UCLA?"

"I'm LA, born and raised. I had nothing to pay anything off. I depended on that job. He offered to pay for everything until school was done that semester and it went on from there. Anything I wanted. Anything I needed. But it was all a trick to get me." A part of her wanted to say in exchange, maybe it wasn't so bad. She watched Del to see if he thought she was an ass. He was actually trapped in a basement. 

"Oh, man. It's a crazy world. That's how they get you."

Emmy nodded. She finished off her sandwich and sipped some water. “And why five? Who decides that? You, I'm sorry, you seem pretty fine to me.”

“Oh trust me, this is a good day. But I don't get as bad as when I first got here. I have medicine that helps. Dr. Banner's super nice. When you talk to him at your intake, he’ll tell you how long you should be here for.”  
“Mm…” Emmy grumbled. She thought she had three months minimum. At least, at that length she could make herself get through it, but if she was give even a month more to half a goddamn year. That was not happening for her, she’d see to it. 

“Don’t worry. It won’t be so bad. We've already made it out of pretty shitty situations.”

Del pointed out the rooms and introduced her to a few of the Omegas they passed by. He let her know everything in the common room could be used at any time, no matter what. Clay, legos, coloring books and pads, games. They had movies and movie nights too. But there was a lottery to see which people would pick for that day, after dinner and right before everyone got ready for bed. They walked by the hall adjacent to the big living area, where there was a short, wide, bookshelf that spanned half the hall. Emmy's eyes bulged, drawing in a breath.

“I’m always here or in my room reading.”

“Oh my god, books!” Emmy knelt down crab-walking the long shelf. “Anything good?” She saw they had fiction, from teen to adult, sci-fi and fantasy, some romance and a psych section with a lot of titles about relationships and recovery from all different kinds of abuse. She tentatively grabbed one about safe relationships with Alphas. “Any historical ones?”

Del nodded, “The guy actually comes tomorrow. He’s here every month and he brings new books. You can request some stuff and he’ll get it to you the next month.”

“Awesome!” It was exciting time. In a month she'd get some World War II books, some biographies. Maybe she could do this. She’d find out for sure at her meeting with the doctor. Still she was hoping her stay would be a short one. 

****

“Are you kidding me?” Emmy’s eyes flared.

“It’s too soon, but at this point. I’m going to recommend a six month stay.”

“You’re trapping me here. I don’t need that long. I'm really fine. You're talking to me. Look at how fine and functioning I am. Give me three months. Del, Del’s been through, like, the same thing. And he gets to leave a month sooner—”

“Like I said, Emmy, it’s too soon. Initially, I recommended Adelfio to stay the entire time. And I’ve reduced his time since then. There’s also the matter of your first heat out here. We’d like you to have one here first. You were on Beta birth control for so long we just want to make sure everything can work properly.” That was another thing Brock had done to her. Sadistic. He got off on her pain. She remembered her father saying most Omegas liked pain when she was a kid and had scraped her knee, but she didn't cry about it. Thought it'd make him proud. What the fuck shit was that? No wonder she ended up with Brock. It was psychology. 

Emmy shook her head, she wanted to ask again. It was stupid, but it’d bug her if she didn’t, “There is absolutely nothing I can do to make it shorter? I already asked the director, but you’re a doctor." She sighed and leaned back on the couch. 

“There is another thing. I can release you to your father—”

“That’s even worse than being here.”

"How is that?" he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

Emmy scrunched her face. “It was not the best environment to grow up in. And me, going missing for years with a boy? I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Wow, sounds like an asshole,” he looked up at Emmy, nervously. “I should-shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s true. He’s not the best.”

“There’s also getting a support Alpha. He’d be a stranger, but some Omegas prefer it. Not that many, but…” 

“If I go that route, can I leave as soon as tomorrow?”

“No,” he clasped his hands. “One month minimum, I’ll talk to you again before I approve you and then you can start looking.”

“How does one find them?”

“We have a scent book.”

Emmy grumbled. Scents didn’t mean the same thing, especially since she was choosing. Her instincts were absolute shit. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I have blank journals on top of that shelf up there. I recommend keeping a diary of your thoughts or feelings, whatever you want. I’ll see you every Friday at 10am, right after breakfast. And we'll see how everything progresses.”

She picked a nice pastel journal, blues, pinks and purples streaked across the cover. "Thank you," and shut the door.

Back in their room, she talked to Del for a bit while they watched TV in their own beds. She leafed through the book she got, her new journal sitting on her nightstand. There were the same things about Alphas and ruts and heats and true mate “changes.” The same things Hill told her, most of it contrary to what Brock said. She wanted to look under her bandages again, but she didn't want Del to ask about them. He was barely out of high school to boot. She'd seen his neck and wrists already. No bites, no marks. She was glad at least he hadn't gone though the same thing she did. At least there were little mercies like that, in what they experienced. Emma was this close to dying. Brock as fucked up as he was, saved her life. Flipping through, she skipped the more anatomical parts and went right to the stories about first heats. She pulled the covers over her head and pulled down the lamp till it shone brightly enough that she could read with her blanket covering her. The cool air made her shake here and there. It wasn’t warm enough, but she didn’t want to get up. There was a story she recognized from a magazine she'd read, years ago. She remembered now. Most of them started the same, an Omega was nervous about spending her heat with her Alpha. In this one, she mentioned he had been gentle even through his rut. It proved to Emmy that Alphas had control, if they really cared enough. And in this story, they were true mates and so he had a means to knot her. That time, he kept it down because he didn't want to hurt her. He only did it, years later when she said she wanted him to. Emmy wished the stories had more details about the pain they had. Something to confirm she wasn't alone in that experience, even if it all turned out nice in the end. Eventually her eyes grew heavy, but she remembered about tomorrow. Dropping the blanket back open, she looked out to see Del reaching up, remote in hand to turn the TV off.

“Dude,” she whispered, “Are you going to self defense tomorrow?”

“I thought about going today, but just went to the pool. You thinking about going?”

“Of course.”

"That's cool. Maybe I'll do it this time."

*****

They were in a dance space with mirrors all around. The floors had pockets of air or something to make moves easier on dancer's knees. It was the perfect place to learn some basic Krav Maga moves. Brent had them in pairs, they were still learning to get their wraps on so Emmy had time time to catch up. She kept peeling the velcro and redoing the last bit a few more times as they ran around and stretched to get ready. 

Kari, tall, sturdily-built, with dirty blonde hair was soon paired with Emmy. It turned out Del didn’t feel like going. Kari kindly showed her what was wrong with her wraps. “The loop on your pinky is too loose. Here.” She unraveled her right hand all the way and gestured for Emmy to follow. They tightened the loop and wrapped the fabric around each finger, snug, then around her hand a few times, then her wrist and then alternating the two until they got to the velcro that stayed secure on her wrist. They learned quickly, for Emmy's sake, how to punch and follow through with every move they made. They all had to move like they wanted to punch through the other person and into the next room or into the ground, depending on the move. 

Next, one partner got a big punching pad. Both eventually taking turns to punch, kick, knee, and hammer fist their partner's pad. Emmy’s heart was going hard, before she kneed up into the pad as Kari held it down for her. "Unh"! grunted Emmy, she was the loudest, taking it seemingly the most serious. The others were probably too embarrassed to grunt and moan so enthusiastically in public, especially in the presence of an Alpha. And it was sort of weird too, Emmy thought. But it felt good to know she could fight someone off enough. And she was always little bit of a teacher's pet.

“Good job, Emmy! Good follow though,” said Brent, as he passed them by. Kari was good too, but Emmy held it firm though her hits. 

At the end of class Brent said, they’d all learn releases and a combination defensive move the day after. Already, Emmy felt fantastic. She’d ask to get a support Alpha assessment when she was ready. She'd know. And if she chose poorly, she’d be able to at least do something about it. No one would ever make her do anything she didn’t want to again. 

****

ONE MONTH LATER

Dr. Selvig turned James’ left arm slowly. He had to watch his marred skin move, otherwise he wouldn't have a complete picture on what was going on. After five surgeries, he still didn't have feeling in most of his left arm. Each surgery to fix a problem here, make the graft smoother there, ease excessive pain. The skin looked like farmland from up high on an airplane. Thick swathes of waxy, stiff, patches of darker rectangles stitched together and grafted to his wrist and just over his shoulder, all donated from his leg. He almost had full mobility in his arm again. Range was a different thing.

“Hey, doc, thought the surgery was supposed to fix the feeling in my arm.”

“Even after the fat transplant, the nerves need a lot of time to finally grow through the grafts. It’s gonna take a year to get you close enough to get back what feeling you had before the surgery. It's such a large area.”

James touched the edge of the graft that encroached his chest, “Will any of it ever feel normal again?”

“It looks like we’re on the right track. We just have to wait and see to see if any nerves have gotten stuck and fix those, should they arise. But as long as you keep up the routine, massage the surrounding area to keep inflammation down, you’ll have full mobility again. You might never have complete feeling back, but you’ll be able to do what you want. But it probably won’t ever be just like it was before the accident. With the transplant, it should start to hurt less now.”

James wanted to laugh. It was no accident. His regiment had been deployed for security. Just two weeks before the end of their tour and the LAV they were in, got hit. His arm and Dugan's chest and shoulder got burned to shit. They were lucky though, they both could have died out there. There hadn’t ever been a graft this extensive done on anyone before them. He knew, he could have died overseas. Or the graft could have been rejected. Or something could’a gone wrong, more time under the LAV, more time in the fire and he might not have an arm to bitch about. He was lucky. After his arm healed up for the last time, he'd finally be able do go out there and help someone .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have another, but shorter one going sometime tonight. I was so close to this next part and anyway. Might as well, right?


	7. Two Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took longer than I thought. Whoops!
> 
> THERE BE TRIGGERS!

In class, they had two Betas in padded outfits, much thinner than the ones used for police dogs. Today was the culmination of a the nine lessons Emmy had been a part of. They were taking turns, going for Emmy. The rest of the class sat or stood against the mirrored walls to watch.

One man lunged forward, hands held up to choke her. A part of her was scared he’d touch her just healed bites on her neck, but knew he wouldn’t. Brent said nether of them would touch a body part not included in the lessons. For her, her scent glands were off limits to the class. She said it was OK to grab her wrists however, she needed to know she could do it. When his fingers made partial contact, she hooked her hand into his and yanked it out, then immediately throwing an elbow inches from his face, and choosing to connect with his padded chest. She turned into him to grab his shoulder, pulling down with her whole weight, while she shoved her knee up into him. He walked back to his side of the room, while other one lunged forward to grab her wrist. She twisted to make her thumb perpendicular to his, grasping her wrist. This move could potentially open back up the nearly healed bite on her wrist. But it was this move that could be the one thing between life or death one day. Fuck no. Fuck that. She gave a sharp twist, and pushed in to force their elbows meet. "Mmm..." she groaned, feeling the pain, already knoiwin a small part inside her wrist must have ripped. She focused on that he would do next. He came at her with his arms and she blocked it by throwing her wrist up, hitting him with the bone. They hurt to give but they hurt even more to take. Then, she motioned to scratch his face with her nails, and touched a finger between his clavicle, making sure not to press in. She could feel a choke already in her own throat, just having her finger in that position. He clutched his throat pretending to deal with the discomfort and staggered back, ending the last part of the test.

The class clapped. Brent nodded and grinned, “Great job, Emmy! Great job! Jason, you’re up. Remember don’t connect to anything without a pad. Go!” Emmy walked to Del’s side, who she'd invited to watch.

“You were so good!" He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks for coming,” she said and put her hand around his waist.

They all whooped and clapped for Jason, when he finished. Jaya’s turn was next.

“Em, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna take this class. I think it’ll be better for me, if I decide.”

“Decide?" Emmy smirked. "So, you're going to do it, too then? Both?”

Del shrugged, “Maybe. Yeah, I'm gonna do it.”

Emmy smirked, patting his stomach, “Maybe they’ll be hot. I’ve asked Banner already.”

“Oh, yeah? Your Alpha's hot?” They clapped and another Omega was called. "I thought it was just blank pages with scents."

"No, maybe. Maybe. Plus I did a ton of research on my own. A lot of good stories. It’s hard to get added to the registry. A lot of requirements.”

“Is being drop dead gorgeous on of them?”

They both laughed as Emmy snuggled into his shoulder, still watching the last one in class take their turn. Del was tall enough to lay his chin on her head.

The on-site nurse had to bandage her wrist up, most of it had healed but a few of the punctures had opened up, clear liquid and blood seeping up. Emmy frowned when she saw the nurse's expression, she had a judge-y face. The one's on her legs were deeper and she could feel them now. It'd taken a while for everything that happened to finally be mostly, processed by her brain. Part of it had been shock, too. And for the past few weeks getting out of bed and changing, showering; they reminded her of Brock. Sometimes she swear she could smell his scent, feel his mouth on her neck or wrist. On her way out, she rolled the bandaged wrist around to feel the pain again. It made her smile. Maybe they were right. Maybe she did like the pain. It felt good, knowing exactly what to do to get out of sticky situations. 

Earlier that week, she’d had her assessment with Banner already. He’d seen her overall improvement, not that she was like any of the other Omegas when they first got here. She was one of the ones who was fine the whole time. But she also showed no signs of a heat coming this month. Banner told her that that meant she wasn’t ready to process everything yet and that she might still be in the “shock” stage. Either way, shock or no, he’d approved her to get her support Alpha. She was just hoping he was nice. No matter how she asked or how much research she did, she still didn’t fully trust having to deal with a strange Alpha and still not one she had to choose herself. She had to stay with them in the same place, sleep near them. There were drugs. What if this one drugged her and took her to a cabin? They'd never hear from her again. Maybe she'd even die this time. She blew all those thoughts away before she knocked on Banner’s door. “Uh, doctor? I'm here.”

“Come on in. It’s open.”

She walked in and saw two gargantuan black binders with tabbed, plastic pages.  


She reeled her head back in response, “Yikes! Do I get a cart for those?”

The doctor chuckled. “You only get one actually. They’re more or less the same.”

She sat on the couch stared at binders and looked back at Bruce. "OK?"

“They’re both separated by distance. It starts in Alphas registered in Oregon and goes by state. They’re numbered, but only the register knows what it all means. Keep things fair for someone in Montana vs California, right?”

True, she bet a ton of Omegas wouldn't mind "having" to stay in New York or LA or Hawaii for half a year, if they could choose. This was it. She could go to museums, bookstores, get a job, read everything! Watch a real movie in a theatre. There was nothing like it, according to the Intro to Film class she took. And, if they weren't close to any of the cool places to go, they could still feasibly travel to one of those places for a while. Alphas had a huge amount of cash for the few months they’d spend and place to crash and free food. If she wanted to, she could see her family again.

“The slightly smaller one on the right will have specific Alphas, while the other has a mix and a quite a bit more.”

Emmy touched the big one and opened it up, before pulling it on her lap with an "oof" and flipping through the pages. 

“The register got requests that asked for a binder with just Alphas who may have been bullied as a child, had experiences with PTSD, and other traumas. Basically ones that haven't had the best experiences. Some Omegas that require getting a support Alpha prefer to be paired with one of those who’ve had similar life experiences.”

"That actually makes a lot of sense."

"The other has them all mixed up, but you might get someone who grew up in a loving home. And has had a pretty normal life."

The other one had it's merits too. Someone with less baggage. But would they be able to understand her? Some things couldn't be read or explained. Some thing's just had to be experienced.

“Pick what you like and you can tell me when you're ready, so I can get the process started. We’ll get them here so you can meet and if both parties agree, then you should be on your way with them the next day.”  


"The next day? That fast?"

"There's a cost reason for that. It's still a government paid program."

Emmy nodded and blew out a long breath. She could be making the worst decision. With her luck, she'd pick a terrible one. One that slipped though all the cracks and magically passed all tests the center threw at them, even if they were completely unqualified. Wouldn't it be safer to just stay at the center with Del? It really wasn’t that bad. Like, really comfortable. But this is what she wanted. Even the self-defense classes, she took that class as serous as a heart attack because it made her like she could do this. She had to take this chance, “I take it to my room, right Or do I have to pick here?”

“Of course. Go, go. Just be sure to bring it back. These things take a while to compile.”  


Back at the room, Del had given her post its and marked the three pages she couldn’t decide between. They lay on their stomachs smelling and going through the binder. Del smelled, but made no comment. All from TAB 9, one smelled like the ocean, one, like old pages in a book with the best glue, and one smelled like fresh laundry, just back from the sun. Super specific. 

“These are the one’s that have been through shit?” Del asked.

Emmy nodded.

“I’m gonna pick one from this binder too, Em. You’re still gonna keep in touch, right? Afterwards?”

She pushed their shoulders together, “Of course! I’ll find you. After. We can live in California together or something. You can get your GED and we can college.”

“But, what if you get bonded to your support?”

That made her swallow, there was totally a chance of it happening. One in four pairings. “No, yeah! I’ll still find you. And either way, there’s a only 25% chance of that happening. I can take that 75% to do it and jet.”

"I was just thinking it would be easier, since you know them already. if you got mated.”

Emmy shook her head at the thought. It put a sour feeling in her stomach, belonging to another Alpha. Doing this increased those chances, but she was done being stuck in one place. She just had to stop thinking about it. If their Alphas were as good as they said they were, she could always walk away in the end if she wanted to. “We’re not thinking about that anymore, Del. Now help me pick!” she bellowed. 

The sea salt smell one, crisp and sweet somehow. That one was her pick, 312-8097. If Del picked it, that’s the one she’d go with to be safer. He sniffed and turned back and forth. Emmy grabbed the small jar of coffee grounds, to clear their noses. Kari brought it by when she found out they were smelling swatches and she'd just finished looking. Her Alpha would be here in a few hours. Emmy groaned, she’d hoped this was gonna be quick. But it was almost dinner time and either way, Dr. Banner had already left for the day. She had all the time she needed to pick between now and the next morning. “Oh my god! I’m meeting a stranger and the only thing I know about him is how much I like his scent,” she fell face forward, and moaned into the bed.

Del stroked her hair, there was a moment when it startled her, but it went away quickly. They'd grown close, but she still wasn't completely used to being touched by him. She liked it when people stroked her hair, but only people she liked. Reaching over, she grabbed Del to take a big whiff. He smelled like dark chocolate shavings. Finally, she calmed. His scent eased all the tension in her body.

“I like this one,” he’d brought his face down to the page. Emmy checked to see if it was Ocean Alpha. The numbers were different. She smelled it, scrunching her face. It was Old Book Alpha. It made sense. She liked books, but there was just something about her pick. She wanted to be near it all day, it smelled like she belonged with it and that made her feel worse about wanting it. Over and over, she’d gone over it in her head. If Brock wasn’t abusing the hormones, she wouldn’t have like his scent anyway. That was no reason she couldn't trust her nose and instincts now. 

“No, I want the other one.”

For dinner, they had meatloaf with a really interesting sauce, mashed potatoes and green beans. For dessert, they’d gotten a creamsicle from the freezer and ate it in their beds, wrapped in two blankets each, while they watched "Tangled." After brushing their teeth, Emmy wrote down the number and tab on a pad and pasted it on the binder, ready for Banner. 

That night Emmy dreamed of her and Brock laughing in bed, kissing, while cars honked outside. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. She wanted him then, got on all fours and presented. It was soft and slow at first. Hands on hands, he'd pulled her hair away from her neck, nose nuzzling in. She'd hoped he'd bite her, mark her. He trailed kisses all over her back. She giggled as he tickled her, before slowly pushing into her from behind. It felt so good to be filled by him, so right. She'd wanted this for such a long time. "Mmm... Ah! Oh," loud moan escaped her lips, he'd pressed against the right spot inside her. Pulling his head forward, she traced her tongue over his ear, sucking on his lobe, using her teeth on him, as he sped up, pounding into her. It ended with his knot finally expanding, locking them together. 

When Emmy awoke, it took her a moment before the dream came back to her through the feelings and sights of her other dreams. Before she got to the terrible core. Brock and her. It was so good. She puled the sheet all way over her head, curling up as she thought about the dream, saw the flashes, felt him inside her again. Why did she want that? Is that what she wanted all along, what she still wanted? She couldn’t still have feelings for that asshole. It was just a stupid dream. And dreams were only a few things, hopes and fears, or normal everyday things to process, or wish-fulfillment. She didn’t have to feel bad, it was just wish-fulfillment. It was time to give her selection to Banner, she couldn't stop the memories from flooding back to her. How salty his skin was in her mouth. She could even hear the smacking of his balls on her lips, his weight on her back, his arm pulling her onto him. She put her hand in her mouth and bit the fleshiest part. And bit and bit and screamed in her head, until she felt nothing again.

Her pulse was racing and she was still uneasy walking over to Banner's office. She'd taken a shower to get rid of the thoughts. But she was still shaking with it. On her way to the office, she imagined Ocean Alpha on her. What if he was worse? She had to seem fine. Part of her wanted to ask, but didn't know if he could unrecommend her if she told him how disturbed she was. Things were coming to the surface now.

Inside, she watched as he entered her number on a website, “OK, we’re just about there. I just need to, uh…” He clicked on something. “And sent.” He swiveled his chair to look at her. "How you doing'? Feeling nervous?"

Emmy perked up, “Yeah, but I'm good! So good. So good.” In her head, she heard the rest of the line. So good, so good, so good. But she couldn't remember the song.

“It’s an automated system. We just need to wait for a little thing here. And…” Ding. A box popped up. “So, it’s asking if you want to send your information to the potential Alpha; the reason why you need one, etc. It'll be concise but specific and also it'll tell them a bit about your background.”

Oh no. That was a lot of information to take. Brock. Pierce. The Pack. Everything already out there. But, then it would be easier. He’d already know. Less likely to try to touch her or encroach on her boundaries. “Uh…” Another thought bothered her, would her story be the only thing they could see of her when they did finally meet?

“You can say no, but it goes both ways. You can know a lot more about them, too. If you decline, you both'll just get each other's age, their city, and the city they were born in.”

“Mmm." Emmy nodded. "No, yeah, I’d rather know.” 

“OK, coming right up. I’ll go print it out and hand it to you in a jiff.”

Emmy watched, a part of her was worried he’d press the wrong thing and she’d end up with barely information and then what if he had typed the wrong sequence of numbers and the one she picked wasn’t the one getting called up. No, this was just her being a worrywart. It's fine. All her thoughts, all her everything it would be fine. All this speculation and stuff was not helping her.

The printer screeched to life and printed out a page. Emmy was rocking back and forth now, but only a little. She wondered if Bruce had noticed. 

He grabbed the single printed page and handed it to Emmy, “Now, that’s the only copy you get. I won’t be able to bring that up to reprint if you, for some reason, lose it. This is gonna be great for you, Emmy.”

Nodding, she showed her teeth and took the halfway filled page. Slightly disappointed, she’d expected a whole page biography. Glancing down at the paper, she quickly dropped her hand to her side again. Her cheeks warmed. Her match was named “James.” Her heart thumped against her chest. She’d always liked ‘J’ names. And Banner wrote it right. 09-312-8097 was up in the corner. Oh god, this was happening. She turned to the wall and rested her forehead on it with a big, long sigh.

 

“Isn’t Shelbyville a made up place?”

Emmy shot Del a look, “It’s a very real place, and it’s also Springfield’s rival city. So you are also correct.” She read over the details over and over. Bullied when he presented in a Beta dominant town, ROTC kid, grandpa in WWII, Army Ranger, got hurt, really hurt and it suddenly hit her. What was on her paper exactly, exactly? The exact words. How long was it? Hoe detailed were the details. What if he was getting off on it? Did it have the implant on there, the stuff about Alpha hormones. What if it gave him ideas? She was already hanging this guy and she hadn’t even met him. And this was her brain doing it again.

Del reached out and pulled Emmy's hand back from her mouth, she hadn’t even known she was bitting her thumb on the nail. “You’re thinking bad things. Aren't you?”

“He has my paper! Some guys like that painplay stuff. What if he wasn’t like that before and I gave him the idea and now he’ll want to try it. Like I did it. What if he feels sorry for me?”

“Em, Emmy, no. Not all Alphas like hurting Omegas. Maybe you got a good one. You deserve it. OK? He's an Army Ranger, so he was probably overseas and some bad shit go down, and he was bullied as a kid. That sounds great.”

Emmy laughed, before Del joined in. They sounded like horrible people. He was right. going to ware was definitely no cake-walk. E'd have seen some ugly things. Wouldn't that make him more sensitive to people in general? 

 

It was Steve and Sam's last night in D.C, so they had a cookout in Sam's backyard. Neighbors, friends, and their families came along to eat and drink. It was a frequent enough thing to see them off, but it was always nice to bring everyone together. Being with people, distracted James in the best way, even if he wasn't actively participating. First, from his arm since was still stiff at the forearm and his shoulder and chest. And second, from the email he'd gotten at lunch. He'd been matched with an Omega in a Portland clinic. She'd said yes to the detail exchange and there was a lot of heavy information to digest. He hadn't eaten lunch that day, and thank god he didn't or he would have thrown it all back up. The shit that some Alphas did to Omegas. No wonder the people in Shelbyville didn't know what to do with him when he presented. The potato salad and the blackberry pie in front of him were the only things he'd eaten all day. Still, he was shocked when he got the news, but went straight online to book a flight. He wanted to do everything in his power to help her. They had a seat on a plane for him that night. The plan was to stay a few days and he would potentially come back here with an Omega to stay. She could still meet him and say 'no.' At least he'd have done his part by going over there.

He took a bite of both pie and potato, as he watched everyone laughing and talking. Sam's nieces and nephews played with his youngest siblings. A cookout for Steve and Sam who were heading to Pakistan. This tour was one of the short ones, so they'd be back in about three months. He saw the sun setting and realized he'd been nursing the same plate since he got here. So far everyone left him alone. He knew he should go out and socialize, maybe even find his sister Becca and his newborn niece. If they were inside, that as good excuse as ever to go inside where it was warmer. Normally he'd be playing with the kids, or helping cook the hot dogs. Most of the swelling had gone down so technically he could do all those things if he wanted. But they were outside and now that the sun was setting, the stitches were starting to ache in the cool air.

"Hey, man," Sam walked over and sat across for him, big smile, resting his chin down on the table, before moving his hands or changing how he was sitting again. "You look like you're the one leaving and not us."

He furrowed his brow, and dropped his fork on the plate." 

"Oh no! That face is serious, even for you." 

"You remembered that I signed up to be a Support, like a year ago?"

"Yeah," Sam went quiet for a moment, "They call you?"

"Booked my flight and everything. Portland, Oregon. She got sucked up in a pack for four years."

"Shit, that's serious stuff. You're going. You're taking it?"

"Would I say no?"

Sam lifted brow, "There's a 'but' in there, I can feel it."

"I honestly thought, I'd get someone who'd just gotten out of a bad family or an abusive relationship. Not that any of that is a walk in the park either, but I'm thinking... What if I'm not equipped to do this?"

"I mean, she picked you, right?"

"Hey, Buck. You guys doing alright over here?" Steve walked over with a plate of homemade chips and sat by James, clapping a gentle hand on his good shoulder. 

"He got matched with an Omega and "Mr. Hot Sergeant" here thinks he might not be a good enough catch."

"Please don't mention "Hot Sergeant" that just started to die down."

"My ass," Sam grumbled. "What, you want me to call you Steven King?"

James shot him a look, and opened up a screenshot of her little file. Emilia De Vera.

"I have never seen an Alpha better with kids, other than Steve here--"

James pinched the bridge of his nose, "Sam, she's not a kid. She's--"

"Are you gonna let me finish?"

Steve chuckled, "Better let him finish, Buck."

James rolled his eyes.

"You have more kindness in your hand," Sam looked down at his scarred one, nodding. "Yes, this hand--than a lot of the other Alphas out there. And no matter what she-- She?"

James nodded.

"...She's gone through. You already have all the tools in your toolkit to be the kind of Alpha this girl needs.

Steve looked at James, "If you need to talk, Buck. Don't hesitate to get in touch with either of us. OK, pal?" 

"You got this, James!" Sam yelled. "Now let's go get some ice cream. Whoo!"


	8. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!

Emmy was a night owl, always had been since high school. Even last night, in an effort to be fully rested, awake and alert, she ended up tossing and turning. Both because her mind wouldn’t calm down thinking about the next morning and then because it was way too early for her to sleep at 11pm anyway. When she finally did slip into sleep, she’d go down for a few hours and wake for half and hour, over and over. She thought of them as sleep episodes. What if he didn’t like her? What if he liked her too much? What if she didn’t like him? Could she still turn him down? What if he came in to say that he already made a commitment and he actually couldn’t do this? She shook her head, as she paced. Why the hell would anyone coming from the other side of the country fly to the other side to say “no.”

She padded around the room, Del was still asleep. She would be too, it was 8-freaking-am! Walking over to her closet, that had filled up in the month since she got here, she picked out black jeans and a grey shirt and laid it out on her bed. Great, she was dressing up as an overcast sky, what Alpha could resist. She went over to the bathroom and washed her face with soap. It was pretty waxy after she used it, but soap was soap. Put on lotion and a bit of BB cream she’d gotten from a kit someone had donated to the center. Then there was her hair. It’d been a long time since she had it cut, hanging mid-back. Quirking her mouth, thinking, she headed out to the front desk. She waved at Tracy, who was doing homework at the desk, and pulled up a pair of scissors, asking to borrow it with her eyes.

“Just don’t cut yourself, Em. OK?”

Emmy ran, then hopped to a stop when she realized. “You are not supposed to run with scissors, what did you’re mom tell you?” she whispered to herself, walking slowly. Coming to her room, she checked on a still sleeping Del, locked the bathroom door and inspected herself in the mirrors. Turning around, she pulled up her pant legs, revealing the near healed bites. She thought about foregoing the ointment for the meeting. A few hours without it wouldn’t mess up the last parts of the healing process. With a huff, she combed her hair and decided on a length and cut across her shoulders. She went over to the trash can to chuck her hair and cut up and across to go over the ends until it was as the magazines and videos called “feathered.” 

After getting rid of the bits of hair on her neck and arms with a damp washcloth, she grabbed her clothes and changed. She wanted to put her hair up into a ponytail, but she didn’t want him to see the marks just yet. She thought the marks were supposed to go away if they didn’t take. But they were scabbing and forming tiny white scars. While not the right color, they still made it look like she'd been mated. Why wasn't her skin cooperating? “Thanks! Thanks a lot, asshole,” Emmy yelled, facing her reflection in the mirror. She had to reassure herself that James would be nice. That he could be nice. If he wasn’t she could deal with him, how many times did she need to go over that in her head? When she picked up the scissors, she wondered if she could still do bangs? There were two conflicting methods in her head: triangle, twist, cut, or part sweep, snip, snip, snip. Her stomach felt like there was a lemon in it.

 

“Cute haircut, Emilia!” Sylvia grinned, as she walked by their table with a mug. 

Del squinted at her, “Uh, where did you get your haircut? And are those bangs?”

“Yeah, I just did it. This morning,” Emmy shrugged.

“You know how to cut hair?”

“Uh, sorta. Back in the house. Our hair got long. There was a magazine that gave tips. I ended up cutting every one’s hair. But just simple things like layers and side-swept bangs, nothing fancy. And this morning I was doing it from memory. One wrong move and I’d probably have Phoebe bangs from when she married Cole.”

Del chuckled, “Are you talking about a TV show?”

Emmy's mouth gaped open. “You know, Charmed? Sister witches?”

Del shrugged and continued eating his oatmeal. "Cutting your hair. Making sure you look cuter than you already are. Someone's excited! I hope he's hot!” Del's eyes widened.

“She scrunched her mouth, "No. No, stop it. I'm just very slightly nervous,” she shrugged, taking another bite of her bagel. "I'm not excited. I just want to look presentable."

Del eyed her, “Sure, friend. I believe that you believe that.” And rested his chin on his hand to stare back at her, as she scoffed. 

“Emmy?” Tracy walked up to their table. “It’s time.”

  **** 

James had been on the curb for a good ten minutes before he went inside. 

“Hi, I’m here for a first meeting.” 

The receptionist looked over on the top of the desk. “Sign in there. Let me see your ID.”

He walked over to the clipboard and complied to both requests. 

She looked at his ID, then eyed him, “Name of the person you’re here to meet?”

“Emilia De Vera.”

She typed something on a keyboard. “I’ll take you to our meeting room.”

It was hard to tell from just the lobby, but the walk through the hall, the paintings, the furniture, confirmed it. It looked like a 90’s motel in there. He followed her through the halls, past other Omegas. They eyed him suspiciously and he felt like he was ten years old again. 

“Here you are,” she smiled. “I’ll introduce you.”

Emilia was short, probably Asian, and had full lips. Her scent filled the room, like fall, sweet. He did not want to fuck this up. He did not want to fuck this up. He did not want to say something stupid.

“Em, your potential support Alpha is here, James.”

She took a second, before stepping closer to look him up and down. And took another moment before moving forward, extending her hand. And boy, did she have a strong grip. He liked that.

“Hi, I’m Emmy. Umm, Emilia, but I like Emmy,” she made a face and looked away. So, she was nervous too. She quirked a brow at him, “Dude, you have really soft hands!” she grinned.

It was nice to see a big, genuine smile. So far, it wasn't terrible. He chuckled, rising his eyebrows. “Thanks?” Was that a good thing? Before he could feel really good about himself, he saw her wipe her hand on her pants. Oh god, he should done something about his sweaty palms before he even came in to see her.

Tracy spoke up, “I’ll leave you two for a bit and then you can tell me if we should start the paper work. Although, I think I already know.” 

Emmy shrugged, looking down and away. Maybe it was still OK. She was shy again. It seemed like she was fighting a grin or grimacing. He was hoping for the former. He sniffed the air, slowly, making sure she didn't know. At least she didn’t smell terrified. 

“Softs hands is nice,” she added.

“You can touch them some more, if you want.”

Her eyes bulged and maybe that was the wrong thing to say. He watched and waited for her next move. 

After a moment, she reached out and pulled his hand up. He kept the other one in his pocket, the cabin pressure on the flight had made the swelling worse. He could only feel it if he moved it. 

Her fingers traced lines and his calluses on his palm and trigger finger. He laughed, “You’re tickling me.”

She turned his hand over and ran her hands over his wrists. Usually, women had cold hands. But hers were warm. 

“Very interesting. They’re uh…” she blushed. “Sorry, I just like hands,” she laughed.

“My hands have never had this much attention,” he smirked. 

Her eyes danced across his face before she looked over and reached to touch his left one—oh shit. He raised a hand to block her movement.

“Not that one?” Her brows stitched together, “Oh, is it OK?”

“Will be, in a few months. Give or take,” he cocked his head, smiling.

“Um, can I ask what happened?"

Don't know if that story is the best for first meetings."

Emmy shrugged, "I guess we can have the longer answer later. If we're actually gonna do this.”

He pulled his hand out of his pocket, stiffly moving it till it was hanging beside him. Carefully, he pulled up the sleeve where she could see the white scars webbed on his wrist, the mottled darker skin of his hand. “Army. Our vehicle got hit. I was stuck under, with the fire going.”

Her eyes went wide, “Is this recent? Is that why--”

“It’s the skin grafts from my leg. Very stiff. It’s been years, lots of surgeries, but it’s healing.”

"I'm sorry." She stepped closer with pursed lips, “Does it hurt?”

“We can talk about that later, or not. I guess it depends on if you’re OK with me or not. It’s fine if you don’t.”

She smiled. What did that mean? But then something happened, she looked away, crossing her arms and her warm smell turned harsh in his nose. She was scared now. 

“Are you OK?” Had he done something? Said something? 

“I’m fine,” she said. 

He pressed his lips in a tight line. She didn’t seem fine.

“Just what do you want out of this arrangement exactly?”

“I signed up to help. You picked me and now I wanna help you, in any way I can.”

She was thinking, chewing her lip. 

His nose was burning now, so he pinched the bridge to ease the discomfort. At the same time, she put her hands on the scent glands in her neck. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

She took a step back, breathing fast, eyes moving back and forth, looking down. Anywhere else but at him. He reached out on instinct, but didn’t touch her. She'd only ever been hurt by Alphas and now here was one about to take her home for half a year. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” She walked out the door, wiping her eyes. 

What now? He wondered if he should stay in the room. But chose to walk back to the receptionist. “She walked out.”

Tracy looked back down the hall. “I wonder what happened. Did you say something?”

“I don't know,” he shook his head. "She just left." 

“Have a seat and I’ll go see what’s happening.”

He sat for a moment, jiggling his knees, then stood up to pace. It felt like a lifetime before he saw Tracy and a smaller Beta man, with glasses and short hair. 

He held his hand out to him, “I'm Dr. Banner. James, thank you so much for coming.”

James leaned his head back, heart sinking. This was it. She could refuse, of course he knew that was a possibility. But this was not the way he saw that conversation going.

“Emmy was just having a difficult time. You understand?”

“Of course,” he shook his head. “But, I was careful. At least, I thought I was.”

“She just had some things the she felt were inappropriate to ask about. Concerning the potential physical portion of the agreement." 

The word "physical" hung heavy in James' head.

Look, you know what she’s been through and she—you are the first Alpha after a line of abusive ones. So instincts are all over the place. She’s in my office and if you’re still up for this, she’d like to talk to you again.”

He nodded, knowing all too well that mind, body and memory did different things at the same time in the face of trauma. When they opened the door, he noticed her scent hurt less to take in. There was some relief in that knowledge. Still, despite that, she had her legs drawn up to her face. That was worse. It hurt to see her like that. Even with what Dr. Banner said, James couldn't really know what was running through her mind. 

She straightened when she noticed them enter the room. The doctor sat at his desk and instead of sitting by Emmy, James sat across from her on a chair. 

She looked at him for a moment, before her face contorted into emotion and lay her chin on the couch again.

He didn't know what to tell her. “I don't know what to say, Emmy. But I’m terrified of cars. Sitting in the back seat. Won’t get into a Jeep or Hummer, any car that reminds me of the LAV I was in. I know it’s over. I’ve been stateside for years now, but it’s there. My body thinks it’s gonna happen again. I still have nightmares I’m trapped with fire. What you’ve been through is different. All I can say is that I get being afraid. I know what those animals...” He used a more polite word. “I know what they did to you. But I’m going to do everything I can so you don’t have to be afraid with me.” He swallowed, looking back up at her.

“OK,” her voice cracked. She looked at the doctor instead and nodded. “You can get the papers ready. It’s OK.” But she curled further into herself, sniffling. “I just need a minute.”

The doctor told him to fill out the necessary paper work and to call them to say when Emmy should be ready in the morning. 

****  

When Emmy got to their room, Del sat up in bed, “Are you OK?”

She wiped more tears from her eyes and crawled in with Del, who pulled the covers over both of them. But he was still too far, she pressed her body into his and grabbed onto his shirt, pressing her face into the bed so the sheets would soak up her tears.


	9. Somewhere Over The Rainbow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some editing done 9:41pm PST. Semi-extensive.

The morning was lighter, when Emmy awoke, her body curled in, Del’s arm tucked under her stomach. She lay there a moment, remembering that these were her last moments with him, last few hours at the clinic with the people she’d seen every day for the past month. She’d made friends with everyone, for the most part. But, she’d miss Del, Kari, and Brent the most. There was so much to do so she turned in Del’s arms, patting his shoulder till his eyes opened. “Oh, hey,” he smiled. “Today’s the day.”

She grabbed him tight and squeezed. “Let’s do this.”

It was the earliest she’d even been up, at just a little after 5am. It helped that she fell asleep after the meeting with James and stayed that way until Del asked if she was gonna get up. She wasn’t and so he brought her some apple juice and water to sip to take her to the next day. He let her know James had called and Em had to be ready at 7:30am. Dr. Banner would be in early just for Emmy. 

They’d gone to the kitchen for breakfast and tea before going back to the room to pack. Emma dressed in her other pair of jeans and a soft, blue sweater with her only pair of sneakers. 

“Do you want to talk about yesterday?” Del asked, rubbing her back as she sorted her belongings in a bag, including her calendar from Hill. 

It all flashed in her head. She’d seen his clean, cleft chin first, with just the smallest showings of stubble. The straight edge of his jaw before it scooped up to his ear. Eyes, slate blue with those annoyingly flush lashes that most Alphas seemed to have. She took in his face but no thoughts zipped through her head, just what she was taking in. Her knees were clouds and she felt like warm water swimming in a body. Then, when he first smiled, she tried to fight it. That didn’t last, but she’d hoped for some reason he hadn’t seen it. They talked, she touched his hands. And then her thoughts started again after she’d seen what he could do alone with her, no matter how good he seemed. 

“It was fine, but I had the bad thoughts again and it was realer this time. Every step just shoves the future in your face. It all just took over,” she groaned. James was a champ for still agreeing to this whole thing. “But…” His smile found her again. She grinned, warmth spreading across her shoulders. “He’s very, very, nice looking.”

Del arched a curious brow, smirking, “Oh! Told you. I want to see.”

“You will, when he’s here.”

She wondered what it would be like to hold his hand. And thought of his left arm, if there was something she could do for him. 

 

“Any thoughts or questions before we start?” asked Dr. Banner.

Emmy shrugged. Nothing particularly coming to mind. Her knee was bobbing up and down. She both wanted this meeting to last forever and end already all at the same time.

“I’m gonna give you a packet with a list of therapists in D.C. who are a part of the program. You’’ see them every week initially and you can meet less as you go spending on your progress and needs and such. 

“Cool.” Maybe she’d pick a female therapist this time. 

“We’ve got a special ID that’ll be sent to your address for the time being. It will expire at the end of the year, so I recommend you getting a state ID soon after you and your Alpha part ways.”

Emmy nodded, letting that fact simmer in her head. There was a chance they’d leave each other at the end of this. Perfectly normal. But it made her just a tiny bit sad. 

“How are you feeling lately? Today?”

“Uh, nervous. Kinda excited.” Scared, terrified, like she was looking over cliff. “Fine?”

“Oh, uh. I meant have you felt the oncoming signs of preheat at all. I’d hoped you had one here.”

The word punched Emmy in the gut. Nope, she did not want to deal with that. She shook her head, staring at the carpet. It would happen soon, no matter how late it was, it would come and she would be with him. It was a thing. She swallowed. Her chest felt heavy, her throat thick with something. 

“Em, are you doing alright? You don’t seem—”

She looked back up at him, taking a big breath, and shook her head to clear her thoughts, fighting the urge to throw up, so she swallowed her saliva till the feeling went away.

“I advise you two talk about how you want to handle that.”

She crossed her legs and pressed her thighs tight together. But that wouldn’t help, if he was behind her. Even now she felt him heavy on her back. She cleared her throat, pressing a hand to warm the lump in her stomach. “Yes, of course, doctor.” Her voice was someone else’s. She was watching from inside this body. 

“When you get to the house, please call the number in your packet for the D.C. district offices. They’ll set up a check-in appointment. So don’t go anywhere too far for the first three days. James will already know that. It’s just to make sure you’re happy with your arrangements or if you’d like to try a different Alpha in the area.” He paused a moment watching her. “You know you can still refuse to go. You can stay here and go at a later time.”

Emmy came back into herself, everything felt brighter and sharper and wider now that she was herself again. The program really did think about everything. Everything was so thoughtful and organized. It made her feel a little better that they wouldn’t be too far, coupling that with regular therapist visits. This would make him think twice about doing anything to her. “No. I’m ready,” she smiled. 

“What are you looking forward to doing the most?”

“I want to go to a bookstore and to the movies. I just miss the smell of the movie theater, even walking on the sticky floors.” 

They both laughed. 

“I just want you to remember one thing, Em. There are more good people than bad out in the world. OK?”

She nodded.

“There are more good people in the world than the bad.”

 

Outside, she ran to go get Del from their room. She stopped, surprised when Kari and Brent were there too.

“There she is!” grinned Brent.

“Emmy!” Kari yelped.

Both walked over, with extended arms.

“Can I give my best student a hug?”

Emmy scrunched up her face. Was she though? 

Kari smiled with arms open.

Emmy answered with a bear hug, fully intending to crack Brent’s back if she could. 

“Ooh!” Brent groaned and returned the strength of her hug. He pressed hard, his large warm hands on her small frame. His smell was earthy and smokey. Her back ached when they let go, but it was the best hug she’d gotten in forever.

It was Kari’s turn. Emmy was gonna miss her and the cinnamon sugar scent. “When’s your Alpha getting here?” 

Emmy but she didn't hear her question. She was thinking, her sparring partner and instructor were here. It was her last day anyway. Why the hell not?

“Could we spend some time doing class stuff?”

 

Brent helped Del get his wraps on. Emmy and Kari repeated the test moves, alternating turns. It wasn’t long now. But they had enough time to do a few things.

“Can we punch now?” Del asked, jumping from side to side like a boxer.

Kari faced Emmy and braced her hand and arms in the straps behind the punching pad, “Ready?”

When she looked over, Del and Brent were going over how to punch properly and the correct fighting stance. 

“Last day. Make it count. I’m ready for ya,” Kari widened her stance, bearing slightly forward.

Loosening her shoulders, Emmy got into position, holding her left foot back, knees slightly bent, weight only on the balls of her feet. She pulled her left hand back a little, but socked the pad with her right. Kari held it in place. She huffed out a breath and focused on the words. Grunted to follow through, imagining how far she wanted her fist to go. She pulled her stomach tight and yelled connecting with the pad. Once, twice. Over and over. Kari eventually needing to take a step back. Emmy saw her move back and punched one right after the other, as fast and as hard as could. Bambambam!!! She concentrated, letting a succession of hits finally push Kari back, back, back. Small steps across the room. If Kari said so, Emmy knew to stop. Only exclaiming once or twice, here or there, Kari trying but failing to keep her ground.

“That’s great, Emmy! Really, good job!”

Her heart was thrumming in her chest. Arms hot and tense. She stopped right when they were they were about to reach the mirrors. Kari huffed, throwing the pad down with a grin, clapping Emmy's back in hearty congratulations. 

Without having to look at the clock on the wall, Emmy knew. It was time. 

They all walked out. Emmy was surprised how totally OK she was with getting a pat on the back from Brent. Del pressed right beside her as they walked down the hall.

Brent walked ahead of them and walked backward as he talked, “Hey, if you’re local. You are still welcome to come to class. In a month or so we’ll be doing groundwork and knife and gun stuff. Handy stuff!” he grinned, holding an arm up.

“So, like we'd be learning how to deflect knife hits and if someone is threatening you with a gun? Stuff like that?” Emmy asked.

Kari hopped on her toes, “That's amazing! Can’t wait for that class!” She hit Emmy's arm. "Yeah, come by! You and me!"

Emmy scrunched her face, “Aww, I’m gonna be all the way on the other coast.” That sounded really cool. She didn't even know basic self-defense went that far.

“Well, you’re welcome back anytime, tiny.” They squeezed each other again. “OK, so I’m actually off break. I gotta go. See you kids! Em!”

“I’m gonna miss having the best partner in class,” Kari frowned. 

“Well, once Del joins. Maybe he’ll step up. But I think you’re gonna be the best on in class now. 'Cause I'm not there!”

Kari scoffed.

“Don’t worry, Kari. I’ll go easy on you,” Del said, doing the boxer hop again.

“Sure you will,” Kari chuckled. "It's easy. You'll be up to speed in no time."

Emmy stopped when she felt someone new behind her and turned.

James walked over to them with Dr. Banner. And it was just like seeing him the first time. She pressed her lips together in an effort not to smile. Since he was with the doctor, she assumed they must have talked about same stuff they did and some other stuff that he needed to know. Maybe he had a packet too.  
“Ready?”

Del leaned over to Emmy’s ear. “OMG! Dude!” And walked in front of her, hands on her shoulders. “So, you know. I’ll be happy to take him off your hands actually. Better luck with the next one. See you outside. But him? Look, I’m totally willing to take one for the team. So hard, I know." He looked back over at James, rolling his eyes. "Let me field this one for you.”

Kari giggled. “Kid, you are shameless!”

Emmy, eyed him. “Ha, ha, Del. You’re practically a baby. Go get your old-book-smell Alpha or whatever!”

“I’ll be eighteen this year. So I’m practically eighteen now. You better write, text, and call me!”

Emmy nodded, and kissed his cheek, afraid for a moment if James was the jealous type. “I have Aldermont’s number. You leave your new Alpha's number with the desk when you get him. OK?!”

James danced his eyebrows up at Emmy, making her giggle and walked beside her as the group made their way to her and Del's room.

They got their stuff from the room. James had left his bag beside hers on the bed and carried both on his right side. 

That was too much strain. She reached out, "Actually, I can get mine."

"No," he lifted his duffel up and down a few times, "I got it. It's fine. Appreciate the thought."

Outside, everyone hugged again while the two waited for their Uber. 

A Titan pulled up. Emmy sniffed, frowning when all she could smell was gasoline. The sight of the massive cabin made Emmy peer at James. His jaw taut, face unreadable. The driver put their bags in the back as James opened the door for Emmy, shut it and got in the passenger seat. 

The whole ride, Emmy watched James as the driver tried to engage with small talk. Something changed in the way he moved. Her stomach felt tight and sour. From when they were talking at first in the clinic, up until now, everything about him had been open. But now she felt a hard barrier with him only giving the sparest of answers here and there to "Where you folks going?" and "Portland is a beautiful city." She wondered what LAVs looked like and if this truck wasn’t just a truck to James. Or maybe it was something else he hadn't told her. He hadn’t sit with her in the back. Not that she particularly expected him to. So he was telling her the truth yesterday. He wasn't just telling her something to make her trust him. Make him seem more human, of course he was. God she hated how suspicious she was of every single little thing. Like Banner said, she had to remember that most people in the world were good. Her brain needed to stop. She watched the driver look over at the stiff way James’ held his left arm. It was more obvious now, out in the world with other people. She swallowed as he glanced down at his hand. 

“Man, what happened to your hand!" 

James shook his head.

"Wait a damn minute! Hey! I know you! You’re that Ranger that survived that ambush right?! You went viral! Badass, man! I saw the pictures. Looked so gnarly. My lady had a mad crush on you! Can't say I blame her. Dude, hey man. Thank you so much for your service out there." He pressed some buttons on his phone. "I’ll go ahead and turn off the meter for you. Damn!” he shook his head, driving on.

James gave a small nod, giving a tight, “Thanks.” 

Emmy's mouth hung the slightest bit open watching the exchange. He had the patience of a statue.

“Man, why ain’t you sitting with your girl back there?" He laughed, shaking his head, "Don’t let this one go, miss.”

Emmy could see James move the slightest bit over in his seat.

“If I want to let him go, I will,” she blurted out, clenching her jaw at this man’s behavior. Why did she say that? Her face burned. Oh god, why did she say that? First this guy won’t shut up and now she was saying she was not all that interested in her perceived, but not boyfriend. Step right up James, have your confidence crushed. One ride, one ride only! Emmy dropped her head onto her lap, pulling her head up quickly because motion sickness. She wondered what she could say next. But thankfully, the next thing they knew they were being dropped off at Alaska Airlines. James gave the guy a ten for tip. Emmy watched with wide eyes. Yup, a damn saint. Despite the horrible conversation skills, he still got them to the airport quickly enough. Made sense. No need to be rude to the guy. Seriously this guy sorely needed a lesson in how to properly engage with customers. 

They walked towards the automatic doors. Emmy walked around to James’ left side, feeling the need to be his buffer just in case there was a crowd, or someone that could pass by way too close. She’d try hard not to let anyone bump him as they made their way through the terminal to check their flight. 

"Shit!" James mumbled, looking over. "Uh, sorry."<>

Emmy shot him a look, “Uh, yeah. Are you serious right now? We're fucking late.” She reached over, tugged on his shirt. And they ran the fuck to their gate just barely making it as their section was lining up to board. 

“This was a close one, dude!” Yup, this Omega called her support Alpha “dude.” "What is this?!"

“Yeah, I didn’t plan this as well as I thought. I really thought we had more time!” he grinned, canting his head. 

Emmy stared out the window while they waited to be taxi’d. Yes, she’d been on planes before but she didn’t much like them when she was a kid. And she discovered that feeling was something no one aged out of when all the bells and humming of the engines was happening. She bit her lips together and gripped her arm rest as the engine roared right before take off. There was not enough time to buy Dramamine or get gum. She pulled the seatbelt tight to her and made sure James had his on already, before leaning back, eyes shut tight, taking one puff of breath after another.

"Don't like flying. You wanna hold my hand?” 

Emmy could hear it in his voice. He had better not be laughing at her. She peered down at his hand on his arm rest. She laid her fingers on his, imagining she was holding it like a vise 'cause she was seriously thinking she was gonna break the other armrest she was digging her nails into. God she wished he hadn’t given her the window seat so she could "see D.C. at sunset." She would’ve squeezed the crap outta his other hand, but this one… Shutting her eyes again. The plane surged forward, the seat belt light dinged. Engines screeched as the plane shook, straining up and up and up. She repeated in her head that it was only gonna be a five hour plane ride. A five hour plane ride where there was literally nothing between them and the ground except for some engines and air. Like what craziness was that? Emmy felt James folding his other hand on top hers. Bingo! She flipped her hand to lace her fingers with his immediately, clutching it like he was pulling her up from a ledge.


	10. Little Do You Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluffy things. And Emmy adjusting.

James' place fit snug amongst a row of townhouses, two sets of short steps up to a navy blue door. Emmy wondered how neighbor noise worked out, or even for scents when it came to heats and ruts. All the houses in LA were far enough apart, and apartments had special basement rooms but these houses were flush against one another.

The first thing Emmy saw was a big poofy couch, pillows piled cast haphazardly on top and a blue blanket draped over the back of it. The plasma TV stood just inside what looked like a closed fireplace, painted white, various DVDs and games tucked in the shelves underneath. Two chairs stood in either side of a coffee table with a stack of magazines on top. Messy neat is what came to Emmy’s mind. Bookshelves with books on the far side or the room. Right on the other side of the entrance was the kitchen, bright, with a wooden island, and just beyond that, a dining room table. In the middle of both rooms was another smaller bookshelf, beside a burbling, squat, and wide aquarium.

“So, this is it,” James said, putting the bags right at the back of the couch. 

Emmy nodded, taking it all in but zoomed right over to inspect the tank right when she noticed, spotting the beautiful white Betta swimming around near the top with ruby fanned fins. She looked around the tank for more fish, but it looked like that fish was the only one in there. 

“Don’t Bettas hate it when their tank is too big? I don't see any other fish.”

“You're not completely wrong. Ruby's fine with a tank this big. I've checked.”

Emmy leaned over, eventually kneeling, scanning near a scuba man, the bubbling chest, medium coral, and a piece of plastic branch. There was an expansive plant, tiny leaves carpeting most of the gravel, with bubbles dusted on top. Every so often a bubble or two would dizzy its way up to the surface. Then something moved near the front of the tank on the gravel. Pairs of black eyes and near translucent bodies. A group of three small shrimp walked along the gravel. 

“Omigod! Whoa!”

“You see ‘em?”

“You have pet shrimp!”

“Can’t tell them apart though. Always together. They're Paper, Snow, and Ghost. But there's more.”

Emmy’s eyes registered more movement in the fake, hollow stump. Eyes and a moving mouth, two fleshy things sticking out almost like a catfish, but stubbier. 

“Is that a cory cat?” It looked cute, hiding in there. Poor little baby.

“A dwarf sucker. He's Muddy. Do you know a lot about fish?”

"I researched kinds of fish for an aquarium for my parents. All I remember is 'cory cat' and 'danios.'"

“There’s actually a few more in the tank. Want a hint?”

"Nope!" Emmy pushed in, scanning low on the floor of the aquarium. It hadn’t failed her yet. There near a small bowl dug in the gravel. No wonder they were hard to spot, with their grey and olive green speckled bodies, arms and legs grasping for their next step. “Two different fish, shrimp and frogs? Neat tank. Dude!” She held her hand up and slapped him five.  


She watched the frogs, flitting around, her cheeks warm because that high-five was dopey as fuck. That was a fourth-grade move. But the frogs quickly had her attention again, clumsy on the gravel but swimming quickly up to breathe in oxygen at the top of the tank, always hurtling back down to the others. 

“The frogs are Benny, Glenn, and Artie.”

Those names sounded familiar to Emmy. 

“Ready for a tour?”

He reached out to Emmy before stepping in front of her, but still didn’t touch her. Right now she wished he would, just a hand on her shoulder here and there. They had sort of held hands and high-fived. She wished she could think of holding his hand on the plane fondly. She'd always pulled back when everything was stable again, but sometimes the plane would dip or the cabin would shake. That's all it took. Maybe he noticed. But then when they fully got off, he always kept his hands just shy of her. 

They walked through the kitchen, past the dining table, where he had bananas and apples and a pineapple on the counter. His smell was strongest as they walked further in and imagined it would be strongest in his own room. In the hallway, she’d noticed there were frames of intricate sketches, desert, beach, forest, New York, and now more recently a river she recognized, the Potomac, a sketch of D.C.

“Did you draw these?”

James shook his head, “No, my buddy Steve did all these. I’m more of a writer,” he chuckled. "Not really."

He didn’t really strike her as one of those brooding writers, wearing all black, wearing berets and snapping their fingers. No, that was Judy from Doug, and that was poets, “You write, though?”

“Not well,” he showed her the first door, a half bath, a closet with pillows, and bed sheets and quilts. “James threw a thumb back at the one room down the small hall. “That’s my room, and…” Turning the other way, “There’s a bathroom right next to yours, a small guest room, when my siblings used to stay over.”

Small rooms, toys. “I'm assuming you're the oldest? Me, too.” She looked down remembering her sister Geraldine, her mother. “Maybe we can go visit my family in a little while. I haven’t seen them in years.”

"We can work on that. Yeah."

Emmy squealed to herself. Finally, a trip home. But then she thought about his words, "we can work on that." Was that secretly a no? 

They walked into “her” room. His scent was muted on this side. Still there with just the slightest signs of, she analyzed, her mouth pursed, other Omega scents. But that could be any of his siblings or other family members, friends. And if he had brought a date back here, that was his choice. It wasn't like they had chosen each other anyway. This was an arrangement, a very confusing one as time went on. She was just attracted to his scent. But didn't that mean he liked hers? That meant they were compatible, attracted? He could feasibly like her in time, couldn't he? Did she actually want that? 

She looked around at the drawn white curtains, a made queen bed with small blue flowers. About half the size of the one in the house with a cabinet and a dresser. This was home for now. 

“There’s also a nesting space built in.”

Emmy bolted for the far door and looked at the enclosed space, no larger than a walk-in closet. The perfect size, but bare. "The houses are so close together here. Can the neighbors smell everything? The nest is right here. Can you hear everything?"

"These were specially built and treated. It's strongest in the rooms. The walls keep in and out a decent amount of noise too, so there's usually a curfew for parties and gatherings." He looked down and scratched his forehead with just his thumb, grinning lopsidedly and honestly, it was the cutest thing Emmy’d seen him do. She wanted to walk right into his arms, but she grabbed her own arm instead. "First night in DC, what do you want to do?" 

“Shop for my stuff. And eat?” She really felt like fries.

James looked down at her, “I’m actually starving. I'm ready for a bite.”

They had a few options, but all Emmy wanted was some chain stuff. McDonald’s, Burger King, IHOP. It’d been so long. Too long without chicken nuggets and dipping sauces. But those weren’t the best things to eat anyway. Emmy walked on James’ right side staying close enough to bump into his arm a few times, hoping he’d put his arm around her, or if she could brush his hand once or twice. Instead, he moved over, maintaining the same distance until they got to Burger Lounge. This one was on the same block as the Omega store he said his sister liked getting stuff from. While in line, Emmy spotted a store across the street, books on rollaway carts outside the door, had to be a bookstore. They needed to go. 

When their orders were ready, they sat in the booth eating. Emmy focused on her burger and fries, watching a family in the corner as their kid loped around, grabbing food from his plate, running away again. There were about two couples dining in too. One, huddled in one booth side by side, his face on hers, giving loud smacking smooches that made Emmy grimace. She felt sick.

“You OK?” he reached out and tapped the table right near her hand, bringing her out of her head. 

“Yeah," trying to make herself calm, she smiled. "Can I get one of your onion rings?”

He pushed his tray of them over to Emmy. 

“Then I think one ring is worth a few fries, right?” he smiled, grabbing some to dip in some ranch. 

But Emmy could hear the couple were still at it. Her stomach twisted. To distract herself, she grabbed the specials menu on every table. They had an elk burger with daikon coming out the next month and cheesy onion rings. She could feel him watching her. 

“Do you read everything?”

“Kinda?”

“You even read the safety manual on the plane.”

“While we were being taxi'd to the gate. Just wanted something to read.”

"Am I that boring?" he smirked, folding his arms. 

"Well, from what I've seen. You kinda are," she giggled. 

“Sounds like you need to go on an actual date with me,” he smirked, cocking his head.

Her heart jumped, trying to keep down a smile. She eyed him, “So, are you saying you're only fun on a date?”

“Did you just turn an invitation into an insult?” he quirked a brow.

Still, he had a grin on. Did he really want to take her out? Was that a joke? "I'm magic with turing good things to shit." 

"Funny, I can make shit situations better, just by being a part of it."

He was a cocky son-of-a-bitch, wasn't he. She canted her head defiantly, "We'll see about that then, mister."

He wiped his mouth on a napkin throwing it back on his tray, "You ready?" 

“Actually, I’d really like to stop by the bookstore across the street. I'll be fast, I swear.”

He smirked, like he knew she was already gonna say that.

Brahm's Books smelled like utter heaven. Old leather spines, beautiful old glues, new paper and ink. This store sold both old and new books. The best of both worlds. On the register it said that they had a Coffee Sunday where local coffee shops brought in coffee and baked goods for their patrons. Neat.

James told Emmy to find him when she was done and the Omega shop would be closing in an hour or so. He didn’t have to tell her twice. She was always quick on trips to the mall with her family. Books first, everything else never. Except for good food. 

Emmy went straight to her usual sections: psych, fiction, YA. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to read though. The titles sang at her, the right words. She’d read the backs of them and the two that she’d picked were about Omegas starting over in a small town after being with the wrong Alpha. She'd realized that that was a common trope. Maybe since it happened way too often in real life. They were exactly her cup of tea right now. Something that made her feel less alone and have more hope than she had at the moment. These kinds of stories usually had happy endings. 

Near the back was a display of new and old movies. She spotted one with a young girl looking behind her. Her chest heavied reading the synopsis about a young Omega indoctrinated in a huge Pack in the woods. That was it. She’d also grabbed an more updated version of her A/B/O book, to read the same definitions over and over and was reminded of the conversation she needed to have with James about her potential heat. She’d need to get supplies for that. Toys, slick. In case her body still couldn't do that properly. Without thinking, Emmy flipped to one of the pages, almost by muscle memory, but it was now on the next page. 

“Knots cannot form unless an Alpha has found their true mate…”

“…During a rut an Alpha has complete control over themselves and their actions.”

The next time wouldn't hurt.

“Ready?”

Emmy gasped in a panicked moment. She wondered if he could smell it then. Or anyone in any of the nearby shelves. She turned to focus on what her face and body were supposed to do to convey a calm demeanor and handed over her selections with a smile. 

The next stop would be a quick one too. Emmy walked into the white, wide, inviting store. On one side were fluffy blankets. James was on the other side looking at a small shelf of books, actually flipping through one of them. He'd bought a few books from Brahm's, she'd look at them later. Then thought better of it, in case he asked about her embarrassing options, typical Omega stuff. She went to the nesting supplies first, pushing a hand into blanket folds just to see now warm they would get. On the other side of the room was an antique chest, filled with folded blankets and cloth. Without getting any closer she already knew what they were. She could feel them under her hands and knees in her head. The old dark room, the way Brock liked it. She let him. Why did he have to ruin the best things, the things she liked? It was her fault she liked the expensive stuff. It was what she was plied with. She decided on three poly-cotton blend blankets that could be fluffed out of their small packaging. Easy to travel with, very comfortable. There were rolls of cloud pillows with the same technology and got four of them. The last of the nesting items was a 4x4 sheepskin rug to cover the floor.  


The shopkeeper brought over a mesh bag to put her purchases in, “Did you want me to keep this at the register for you?”  


“Please.” She looked over towards the back, an enclosed room, with just a black curtain between it and the rest of the store. When she looked back James was with the nesting supplies, hovering light fingers over blankets, fully feeling the sample pillow that she’d just gotten. She loved how careful he was with how he touched everything. She walked through the black curtains, not sure what she needed to brace herself for.  


There were shelves full of toys and DVDs. There were racks of lacy underwear, like red and black and white were the only colors in existence. She grabbed a box of warming slick along with a small insertive toy, no knot. Maybe she could try it herself. Get used to the feeling of something inside her. 

On the way out, her eyes found a poster, the oiled Alpha buck-naked grinning at her, fully erect, displaying his swollen knot proudly. Her heart caught in her throat and everything went cold. The shopkeeper’s heels too loud and the lights overhead too fucking bright. Her feet staggered out, bringing over her last two items, not caring if James saw. It helped that nothing actually felt real anymore. She was out of the world, walking around and moving in it, but none of it mattered.

James rushed over, telling to the shopkeeper to ring the rest of the items up. He took the bag on his good side. Emmy pressed as close as she could still taking care not to brush against his arm. She took the bag of their books as he carried her nesting supplies, hand fisting his sleeve.

“Em? Are you alright?”

She swallowed, looking at wideness of the world. Everything was bigger, sounds muffled and sharp at the same time. Cars seemed to whizz through the street. He placed a soft hand on her shoulder, she barely noticed, wondering how it would feel to snake down her back and press her down. She looked at his arms as they walked, remembering the day they'd spent together. She wanted him to touch her and when he finally did, that's what came to mind. Some part of her desperately wanted to curl into him, but their arms were full, and they were walking. She doubted another touch from him would produce a better result. It had taken them too long to get back to his place. 

James dropped his bag off on the floor as Emmy laid the bag on the coffee table and sat on the big couch. He headed right to her, after turning on the central air heating. “Are you doing OK? What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk,” her voice sounded so small and hollow. “Can you stay for me?”

He seemed to think a moment. “Of course.” When he settled further back on the couch Emmy squeezed in till their shoulders touched. 

"Can I hold you?" he asked, reaching out.

Emmy leaned in, finally feeling his warmth on her, his arms cradling her. She didn't even know what was happening until she saw her body bucking in his arms, her voice whimpering. 

He opened his arms up, "Em, I would never hurt you. I swear." 

She pulled his arms back around her, holding them even as her body moved. Inside her head she was begging her body to listen, to know it was OK, this touch was OK. She focused on her breath and as long as she held onto his arms he never let her go. She didn't know how long it took, but her body finally twitched less and less. The worst of it had passed. And they settled into each other for a moment. 

But pain, a dull, cool ache all pressed into her back, like a giant pining her under his boot. He was already there, already helping. "My back," she moaned. "Could you massage it?" 

She could feel him stirring, like he was looking for something.

"Can you lay on my lap?"

Her body did not like that. Her shoulders and hands twitched as she moved over him. Her eyes flitted to the crux of his legs, before laying all the way down, half-facing out, her body tense. She wished she could just scent him and be OK with everything.

He fidgeted, feeling around him on the couch. Emmy waited until she knew what he was doing before she could even try to relax. He found the remote that had been sandwiched behind the cushions and turned on the TV. “Wanna watch something?” And flipped through the channels, while rubbing her back. He stopped on a movie with a mass of soldiers on a beach, a D-Day movie, Emmy recognized. When he lifted his arm again to change the channel, she pulled it back down. “I didn't think you'd be up for that sort of thing right now,” he said. 

Emmy grabbed the remote from him and put it down on the sofa arm.

They watched the rest of the movie. Up next was an old black and white movie about an old soldier that had to serve time on a chain gang for a crime he wasn't guilty of. They watched that one too, until they both feel asleep.

****

Emmy opened her eyes, he'd moved in the night at some point and was spooning her now, still out. This was the way it was supposed to be, cuddles and black and white movies. He hadn't touched her. He could have. But he helped her through her little episode, rubbed her back through that pain that came out of no where. He was a good Alpha. She was gonna make him a good breakfast. Slowly, so as not to wake him, she pulled his hands away, laying them back on his side. Finally slipping out. 

She opened cupboards and drawers as carefully as she could to get the right pan, the right bowl. In the fridge she found eggs, milk, bacon and a bunch of other things in the pantry. It was only after she flipped her first pancake that she heard him stir, yawning. He sniffed the air, and popped right up. "I smell food."

"I'm making breakfast," she said, laughing, dropping the flapjack on a plate and starting up another one in the pan. 

He walked up beside her, "You're making pancakes?" 

"I know I got one done. But everything will take a while to get ready. This is just one thing."

"So, there's more?"

"With me, there's always more!"

"Can I help?"

Was this guy for real? She looked around. This wasn't the kind of meal she needed help with. "I'm good," she said. But was he just saying that to be nice? Was he expecting her to decline his help? 

“Then does that mean I can take a quick shower?” he asked, already stepping back.

She waved her spatula in the air, "You can do whatever you want as long as you come back here hungry."

"That won't be hard. I'm always hungry."

She giggled and dropped another pancake on the plate. While this one cooked in the pan, she'd get started on the potatoes.

James walked into his shower, making sure the water was just a hair warmer than he’d like, so he could work down the extra fluid that had gotten trapped between the grafts. He'd flown twice in such a short time that all the recent progress he'd made had all but disappeared. He knew it wouldn’t dictate his life forever. Another few months, given that there were no more complications. He kept needing to use one arm to do any lifting. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up like one of those lobsters with one huge claw.

He’d kept seeing that look on Emmy’s face, at the burger joint, the bookstore and the Omega store. It wasn’t hard to miss. She’d seen something, heard something, either in real life or in her own head. Things that made her look like she’d been scooped of everything that made her her. Something triggered her, but he wasn't one to press. She'd talk if she wanted to. Last night she'd even had back pain. Some of his buddies would say they'd get aches and nausea out of nowhere.

It used to be worse for him, nightmares, fear of tight spaces. The only thing he got were headaches sometimes. But years of support groups and meetings helped him enough even though he still had a lot to work on for the rest of his life. Emmy was still at the beginning of it. At least his experience in that department would help her while she was with him. Maybe in a parallel universe they would have met under different circumstances. Like in college or something. Maybe even ask her out on a date.

He’d given his arm a soft scrub, pressing between the grafts especially, holding his arms in the spray just in case he'd started to feel the water on his grafts. Nothing yet. He smiled, speeding up. Didn't want the food to get cold. She was actually making him breakfast. What else was she making for him? His expression slackened. He'd felt something when his thumb passed near the base of his penis. He looked down and touched the skin, looser now, where it had been tight all his life. All the sex education in elementary school, middle and high school flashed through his head. He braced his hand on the tile as the realization came to him. His body had known, even before anything else of his did. “Fuck.” What were they gonna do now?


	11. breathin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight trigger warning for dialogue stuff. I don't even know how to describe it.

The food had gotten cold by the time James was ready for it. Maybe he was one of those long-showerers. With the both of them under the same roof, they’d run up their water bill sky-high. She’d be mindful since she was staying here. Cooking was a good start. She’d think of more ways to help out. He’d come out eyes down, head lost somewhere else, smiling, talking to her but obviously not completely present.

Emmy ate a few good bites of bacon, potatoes, taking a drink of orange juice to have enough energy going through her to last for a good few hours. “Hey, um… Are you OK?”

He looked at her, like he was surprised she was even asking that, “I just have to take care of few things for today, I completely forgot I had to stop by the VA.”

“So we’re going to the VA?”

“Actually," he said, staring at his phone. "I’m getting my sister to take you shopping for the rest of your things. She’ll be here soon and then I’ll go take care of my stuff.”

“We’re not going together?” Was't she always supposed to be with her support within reason?

“It’s gonna be easier. And you don’t have to be with me 24/7. You just have to be with someone.” He gave a long exaggerated sigh, “By the end of the day you’re gonna know way more about me than I’d like.”

“So like embarrassing baby stories?” Emmy asked with widened eyes. 

“That, you’d have to get from my mom. I was four when Rebecca was born.” 

It’d taken a while for it to happen, but James’ eyes were bright as they talked. It made Emmy think that everything with James was fine. That he’d really just forgotten about something. Plus this was a chance to spend time with his sister, less pressure. Not to mention she liked getting to know family members of friends or boyfriends, to see if they’d like her too. Especially if they liked her too. That and she’d be able to have actual pajamas to sleep in, her own towels, and more than two pairs of socks. She thought a moment. Had he told his family what he was doing? “Does your family know what I am to you?”

He leaned back in his chair and gave his face a long swipe with his hand. “Fuck,” he looked away to think a moment. “OK, we can take a minute to explain the whole thing—”

“No, no, I don’t want to." She shook her hands out in front of her. "I don’t want to have to explain myself to your family—”

“You won’t," he said, shaking his head, thoughtful. "We can just…”

He could tell his family she was his girlfriend and according to every teen movie and show, hijinks would ensue. In her head, she laughed a bit an that, but this was real fucking life. “Can’t you just say I’m a friend?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she had to think again. What friend needed to stay with his sister? And needed to be taken shopping? "OK, that was not a good plan."

“It’s just my sister. I can tell her really quick. Rebecca won’t make a big deal of it if I ask her. Only what she needs to,” he said, eyes wide and waiting for her to give him the go ahead.

“She won’t know every detail about my life in Oregon?”  


“She’ll know what I'm doing for you. I swear she won't pry.”

Emmy stood in the warm shower, pressing her hot hands to her face. She told herself she wouldn't stay too long, but she could linger just this once. Looking around, she realized she'd be unhappy with the rest of her shower. The guy had Head and Shoulders and Dove body wash. He smelled great with it. But she was gonna smell like Alpha today or at the very least, a male Beta. Leaning back into the spray, she groaned. At least it was an actual body wash and not the bar, which would leave her hair waxy. Afterwards though, her hair was tough not just from the soap but also for forgoing his conditioner. Running, a hand through he hair, she cried to herself. She'd definitely take another shower with her new things. And they would smell like fruit.

While she was getting ready, James said he'd call Portland to let them know that they were safe and in D.C. She cringed as she changed back into her same grey shirt and jeans. At least is wasn't as bad as she thought. Maybe she could pass by a Macy's, so she could spray herself and pretend she wore new clean clothes for the day. When she walked back out James handed her a phone and card, slightly annoyed. 

“I called them, but they need to hear it from you.” 

His phone dinged, right when Emmy was trying to dial Aldermont. “She’s outside. Emmy, tell you what.” He handed her his phone. “Keep my phone. Call Portland in the car. I won’t be too long at the VA, just come back when you’re done,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin.

Emmy nodded, there was that feeling again. No matter how OK he looked, something weird was going on. She’d ask him about it. They stepped out to the curb.

Rebecca put her silver Audi A3 in park, not bothering to go out. “You’re lucky Henry was home.”

"Isn't he always home nowadays?" he asked, with a smirk.

Rebecca rolled her eyes, "You're lucky we're both on leave for the baby." 

“Thanks, sis!” he said, giving her a short wave and a smirk. “I will get you back.”

“I know. I know,” she leaned over and gave Emmy a bright smile, something she and James had in common, when he did it. “I’m Rebecca. You must be Emmy. Nice to meet ya.”

Emmy nodded and stepped down. James clamored after her and opened her door for her. 

"Super sweet, time to go!" Rebecca put her sunglasses on, looking like an old Hollywood starlet, with just a tilt of her head. 

“Get back here safe, you two,” James leaned over on Emmy’s door, eyes soft. He shot her one quick look that made her cheeks and back warm and prickle. 

 

****

 

James jiggled his knee, waiting for the doctor to get back with his results. He’d hoped he was just losing his mind. He was wrong, paranoid even. That he could work with.

“Well, James,” the doctor walked in, shut the door and sat down at his desk, with a proud smile on his face. 

He held his jaw firm, staring at the doctor. That smile confirmed his fear. 

“Upon my physical examination and…” 

James laid out his hand on the doctor’s desk, “Doc, is it yes or no…?”

“Congratulations, James. You’re very lucky. By the time your next rut comes around, you'll be able to form a knot." He shook his head, "There are some out there that meet their mates too early or too late. This is a perfect—”

He dug his fingers into his hair, groaning. 

“This should be wonderful news, James.”

“I’m her support Alpha. I knew it was possible, but it was such a slim chance!” he shrugged, throwing his hand out.

The doctor leaned back in his chair, seeming to study James or the situation. “That’s right, I assessed you for your initial application into the program.”

“You know why an Omega would need a support. I can’t be the one to force her to be a part of this.”

“This is no one’s fault. It is biology,” he scooted forward in his seat, a cool smile on his face, fingers laced on the desk.

“Are there experimental pills, something else I can do?”

“There are so few studies concerning the remedying of this. I’m sorry. The only thing we can do is admit you in order to help you through it. But even that--”

James shot him a look, wanting to be relieved but needing more confirmation. “So, we don’t need to spend it together?”

The doctor nodded.

“I can do that. One or two days,” he shook his head and nodded, sure now.

“Now, James. This is a special circumstance. Without the proper—eh—precautions, this will take an unusually long time.” There was something in his expression, annoyance. “Usually when Omegas find out that they have found their mate, they are very glad to help—”

“No! Not an option. I appreciate your help, doctor. I’ll contact you once the time comes.”

 

****

 

They'd gone to a few stores here and there. Some things catching Emmy's eye, but she walked away from most of them. There were a lot of things Emmy needed but it was too much money. At first she tried to get the essentials, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, a brush. But it turned out that there were a lot of expensive essentials she needed. So far, she’d gotten toiletries, two pairs of pajamas, one other bra, and a pack of underwear. It added up fast.

“You need socks, Em. Emmy, Mia, Emilia, Lee,” Rebecca said, looking around the store. 

At this point his sister could call her whatever she wanted, it was fun to get nicknamed so quickly. It made her feel special. Emmy noticed Rebecca had the same shiny brown hair, same grinny smile, and near the same nose as James. But she was only just a few inches taller than Emmy. Rebecca walked on as Emmy followed with her cart, the bottles jostling around when she turned or ran over the divide between the tiled floor and carpet.“Uh, well. Socks aren’t really…”

“How much stuff do you actually have?” she asked, staring at her, hand out.

Emmy bit her lips together, scrunching up her face. “Well…”

Rebecca gave her a look, like she was tired of this whole interaction. “Are you worried about the cost?”

The books and food were OK, but this was his sister paying for her stuff. It was just still too weird. Emmy realized that he was spending way too much money on her not to get anything back. It'd only been a few days. That’s exactly what she didn’t want. “It’ll be a while before I can even apply for a job. And this is just too—”

Rebecca laughed, shaking her head. She clamped her hands on Emmy’s shoulders, “It’s fine, Emmy. You’re not trying to spend a ton. I get that. But Bucky’ll have my head if I come back without you having what you need.”

Emmy took a step back. Was she for real? “Is he a mean brother? That’s not cool.” She was always nice to Geraldine, when she wasn't being annoying.

Rebecca sighed, looking away with a smile, “Sorry, Milia. Sorry. That was a joke. You don’t know him, not really. He’s not that kind of guy.”

They were finally in the sock section and the whole thing made Emmy feel more at ease. She got a few pairs or animal socks, bunnies, cats, whales, of differing lengths and had gotten one that made feet extra warm. She always had cold feet at night.

“So anything else should I know about him? Why do you call him ‘Bucky?’”

 

****

 

When they came up James’ steps with two bags each, there was a faint pulse in the air. It was only when Rebecca unlocked the door, that they knew what it was. He was listening to music in his room. The closer they got the clearer the song was or who the band was. Rebecca knocked, Emmy stayed just at the beginning of the hallway, close enough to hear Kurt Cobain crooning. The door shut again, prompting Emmy to walk further in to listen. At first, the music was too loud to hear anything above two voices speaking loudly, maybe they were yelling. But soon someone cut out the music mid-song. Again, Emmy could barely hear anything, voices there, quieted down. So the rooms really were somewhat soundproofed. She leaned on the wall to wait, until it opened up, Rebecca coming first out. 

“Today was fun, Emilia. You have good taste in food.” She grinned, patting Emmy’s shoulder, leaning in, "If he ever busts out Radiohead, you call me." Emmy wondered what James used Radiohead to deal with. “You take care of my new friend here, Bucko.” She went into the kitchen and went to a cupboard and grabbed a box of krispy treats. 

“Beck! What are you taking?”

“Payment,” she said, giggling. “And you owe me a babysitting night.” 

“I know. I know,” he said, hands in his pockets. “Thanks again, Beck.”  


Rebecca grabbed her bag and was out the door, locking it from the outside. 

“Your sister’s fun.”

He nodded up, a slight smile on his face, “I guess you’re coming to babysit my nephew with me then?”

“Any time," she patted his shoulder and walked over to set her back on the counter. "But, I really just like looking at them and feeding them.”

“So you’re leaving the dirty diapers to me?”

Emmy batted the air, “I’m the oldest of two. Of course I know how to do the necessary things. At least, the work will be even.”

“I wouldn’t expect less from you.” He looked at the bags on the floor. “Wow, what didn’t you buy?”

Emmy gave him an exasperated sigh, “Actually, we had to leave the baby elephant in the store,” she shrugged. 

“You obviously made the wrong choice.” He walked closer to Emmy waving his hands up and down, “Essentials or elephant? Essentials or elephant?”

“I guess we have to go return all this stuff. Hopefully it’ll still be there tomorrow.”

"If they have hippos or a manatees, I'd be fine with either of those." 

They cracked smiles, laughing together. Then something grabbed James’ attention as Emmy tucked over, wheezing. 

He held his hand out for a moment, “Hey, we need to talk about something.”

At those words, Emmy sobered, but those were “breaking up” words. She looked at the way he hung his head. How could they be? They weren't even together.

“We should sit,” he said, mouth tucked on one side. 

Emmy sat at the couch and James followed suit. 

“Earlier, I lied. I had no business at the VA. But I had gone to the doctor to get something checked. So I could be sure.”

Emmy frowned, she could feel her heart thumping. “What? Wh-why?” Her head exploded with an encyclopedia of diagnoses, mostly involving types of cancer. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed, “Nothing really. I’m healthy, but I was given suppressants while you were here.”

Emmy perked up. “That’s great.”

“But I went to the doctor today,” he was pulling on the seam in the couch cushion, keeping his eye on his hand an what it was doing. “and from my blood and his examination. Turns out those suppressants won’t work on me.”  


She tried to wrap her head around that. There was only one time that would be possible, outside of Alpha hormone abuse. The universe had to be kidding.

“By my next rut, I will be able to form a knot.”

Emmy looked down, curling her knees to her chest, “That can’t be me that did it, right?” Maybe it was a random store clerk or someone else fro mhos life? How the hell would that work?

“If it is you, the doctors will be able to detect a change in your hormone levels.” 

Did this mean that their meeting might trigger her heat? Her stomach froze. “How can I find out?”

“We can go to a place that specializes in these tests or we can see my doctor tomorrow. It’ll be short, since it’s just a test, they can squeeze us in.”

Emmy nodded, “OK, OK.” She peered up at James, “What if I am? Would I need to help—?”

“I already discussed it with the doctor. It’s not going to be a short stay. I’ll be gone for about two weeks to deal with it there.”

“Two weeks? A rut? In the hospital?” she asked.

He shook his head, “A little more than a week for the actual rut. Some time after to recuperate. You know how Omegas need to get actual help if their heat gets worse, right?”

Emmy nodded, “Then, how long would it take the normal way? If I—”

“You don’t have to do—”

“I want you to tell me. I want to know,” she rested her chin in her hand.

“Two days. Three, tops.”

“And recovery time?” Emmy looked down, chewing on her thumbnail.

With a sigh, shutting his eyes, “Umm, little to none. Like a normal rut.”

Emmy thought about all the information. She couldn’t have him out of commission or weak. She did not want to be with his sister or his family for two weeks. It was nice having his energy, a barrier for the world. That feeling was probably part of why the program existed. Slowly, yes. But not all at once. What would it feel like? She metered out her next sentence,“If we dealt with it the natural way, it would be better for you…?”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“But if I wanted to?”

“Em—”

“If I was with you, it would be nice, right? I think I’d like to know what that’s like. In my book, it says Alphas have full control over themselves. Is that true?”

“Of course. We’re not animals. We can think,” he paused a moment. “If we’d been dating, I’d have had it more planned out. Usually,” he chuckled, “I take more time before we even got to this part.” 

Emmy’s cheeks grew hot, excited about what she could experience a few weeks from now. 

“Really, you don’t have to,” he shook his head, face dead serious.

She hardened her look, “I want to. I want to see what it’s like. And if we are true mates, then it would be better to get used to things.”

“That sounds like a terrible way to go about it.”

“If I take the test and it is me, then we should. If it isn’t, then you can go do the hospital thing. I'll help you find them. Yeah?”

James nodded. 

Emmy thought about her situation, same as any Omegas, “So, since you since up for this, if my heat was coming, and it will. Would you spend it with me?”

“I would do whatever you wanted.”

She shook her head, trying to understand if it was near the same situation. “Then how is this different?” Suddenly, it all came to her. He'd said it but her mind glazed over it. If they did this, he'd knot her for sure. She couldn't possibly want that.

“The little paper I was given. It wasn’t too specific on the details, but they did mention the Alphas abused hormones,” he shrugged. “I looked up them up…”

Emmy swallowed, belly cold. There was no gain without loss, was there?

“I know what that sort of thing does.”

“And the birth control they gave me?” 

James cleared his throat, giving a sharp nod. “That’s,” his voice broke, “why.” He cleared his throat again. "Part of why I decided what I did."

She didn't get specifics either. On his paper, it said he'd been bullied but not for how long. It stated his injury, but not what'd he'd been though overseas as a Ranger. So it stood to reason, that he didn't know the small tiny things. When, how often, and what specifically. It made her think. She needed more. “What do you think about what they did?”

“Alphas like that, should be locked up, and worse,” his jaw tightened. "We're meant to protect. It's ingrained in our biology."

She screwed her brows together, “So, that doesn’t sound appealing? To do that? If it makes an Omega tight, won’t that feel good to you? And with a knot...”

“Not at their expense.”

She'd spent so long with Alphas that relished in it. Seth loved it when one of the girls got a bruise, one way for any of them to pique his interest. In the act, he'd make sure to dig into their cuts or bruises. At least Brock wasn't into that. She nodded, almost wanting to laugh, but drinking in the information all the same, and still not completely understanding. 

“That’s the last thing I’d want.” The way he'd looked at her, even the way his breath huffed told her how serious he felt about this. "If you're sure you want to do this, you can still change your mind any time.”

She laughed, bewildered at what he was saying, “How do you know the just right things to say?”

“I can’t claim complete credit for that,” he turned back and pointed at his bookshelves. “When I first signed up, I bought just about every book that the center recommended I get. Any situation.” 

Crossing her arms, she asked, "So you're prepared for any situation, but not when it comes to trips?" She laughed. 

"Come on! We made it on the plane, didn't we?" he asked, eyebrow quirked and a smug grin.

"That is beside the point, soldier," she walked around to grab a few of her bags. 

"Here, let me get you the rest of your stuff," he looped the last three bags into his hand, following Emmy to her room.

"Thanks, there, Bucky," she giggled. It was an interesting nickname. "D'your sister some up with it? She seems to like making up names for people."

"Actually got it in first grade. Three of us had Barnes as a last name..."

That night Emmy tried to use her hands on herself. She'd had the urge to push a finger in. One, two, three, until it burned going in. Anger was rising within her, she could see Brock in her head, pumping into her. Only this time she fought him, but it was still no good. She opened her eyes, the anger was right. In her head, she imagined someone that didn't look like her, on her hands and knees, trying to fight Brock off. Moaning under him, before he thrust up and spilled into her. She rubbed her legs tightly together, writhing on the bed as it continued in her head. Brock flipped the Omega over. "Boss just came in from outta town. You wanna give him a nice welcome?" This one knew what he liked, and hooked her legs over his shoulders. As Pierce came, so did Emmy, grinding her teeth. There was a small screaming part of her that she was trying to tamp down, a part of her that wondered what it would be like when James finally did that to her. This part of her wanted it and was calculating just how to get what she wanted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only gonna get worse and better at the same time.


	12. Can We Hang On?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, the triggering stuff continues! Not so much?

Emmy opened her eyes, wrapped deep in her new nest. It was strange, since she hadn’t remembered setting everything up just yet. She felt so warm in them. The blankets had heat activated soft scents, vanilla, maple, walnuts and sugar, and made it feel like fall. Out near the kitchen, she could hear rustling with pans and a stove. Who would be cooking? She stepped closer and scented fresh branches and salt, the scent stopping her. He moved by the stove, tossing vegetables on a skillet as flames shot up. The image was wrong. This man was not James. 

Brock turned, wide smile, soft eyes, “Emmy! Morning, sweetheart.” That’s all it took to get her over to him, arms open and a sweet kiss on his cheek. He returned the favor ten times over tickling Emmy so much she giggled, pushing his face away. 

“Stop it dude,” she turned to put two plates down on the island. She looked over at the aquarium and saw three aquatic frogs flitting on the gravel. Benny, Glenn, and Artie, she knew. Brock grabbed her waist, hoisting her up on the counter, hand up to shield her head from the hanging pots and pans, settling between her legs and driving in so she could feel every inch of him. 

Pressing her lips to his, she grabbed him by the back of his head before they broke away, his nose tip grazing over her neck, and hers swimming around his scent glands, running her tongue just over her teeth, eyeing just the right spot. 

“Are we doing this, babe?” Brock asked.

Emmy laughed, taking in the scent of his skin, pushing his hands under her shirt till his hands were just at the tops of her pants, ready to pull them off. It wasn’t long till he was pumping inside her and everything was smooth, hitting just the right spots, making her moan into his ear as Brock grunted. She could feel him starting to swell and pulled her hair to make sure he had unfettered access to her neck. Emmy bit down as Brock did the same, she groaned with pain as his teeth punctured her skin before her body sang with the bond. She saw what he saw, and could feel him coming into her like she was in his head, and his body too. Breathing hard, coming down from the high, she lay back on soft blankets. And turned over in bed with them. Content. And alone. 

When Emmy woke for real in her bed, she looked at the bites on her wrist, feeling on one behind her legs to make sure. She cupped her forehead in her hands, the dream washing over her. Shutting her eyes, she groaned. If they didn’t have to be anywhere else that day, she'd stay in bed. This would have been a good time to have her nest set up. But she saw everything still wrapped up in her bags by her drawer. As far as she knew, the nesting materials she’d gotten didn’t have heat-activated scent release. That sort of technology needed to be invented already. Extra comfort already built in. 

The images and sensations kept coming back to her. What the hell was that dream? Brock was actually nice to her and she… Emmy grabbed her mouth just in time as her head warmed, while she retched, keeping the gag down long enough that she didn’t throw up in her bed. She looked up, chest heaving, pushing the dream and all her thoughts away. There were things to do. She had to get out do necessary day things, get her test, figure shit out. It’d been so long since she’d had someone to talk to since Banner. And it wasn’t the best thing to have just Dr. Banner to get things out, no matter how warm and understanding he was. He still had a penis. 

Getting up, she went through her bags and found what she was looking for, her packet of therapists. If the test turned out to be positive, she’d talk to someone about it. If it was negative, she still sorely needed to be shrunk. Because last night, she thought of Pierce and this morning’s dream. Something was seriously wrong with the way her mind was working. She stopped herself again and got ready, keeping her head free from all those thoughts by focusing her mind on food or cute little animals. She’d put her calendar up and tore off a few pages to catch up; a baby elephant and a duck, a chick and a kitten, and a bunny and a baby chimp. 

Emmy approached the kitchen slowly, waiting for sounds, hearing the fridge shutting and something in a toaster popping up. Her shoulders relaxed when she scented ocean water. James turned, “Good morning,” he smiled and poured maple syrup on his waffles. “I have strawberry or blueberry in the freezer for you, if you want waffles.”

“Morning,” she said, wanting to touch him, just his hand and feel how real he was.

“I can make you eggs,” he grimaced and spread a few pieces of butter on his waffles. "Or cereal?"

Staring at James, she wasn't even taking this fully in. Did she want Brock back? How the fuck did that make sense? In the dream he was nice. "No, waffles are good." She walked over to the freezer and grabbed the box of blueberry. The waffles jostled easily in the box. Emmy hesitated, opening it. “Oh, no! I can't eat your last ones.”

He shoved a waffle in his mouth, and shrugged, “Then we’ll go shopping today, after the doctor.” He was just shy of talking with his mouth full of food but it was adorable. 

Emmy tentatively put her waffles in and turned the dial for slightly browned waffles. James left the butter on the counter and the syrup. She turned to watch her waffles cook. Wasn’t there a way to get him through his rut at the hospital quickly without her? But going through with this just might push her through somewhere good. How was it possible she wanted to do both? She did want to try, but now? Once they had their answer it would be easier to decide, wouldn't it? She ended up eating just one waffle and a sip of coffee.

 

They sat in the doctor's waiting room, three times, waiting a long while to get in, waiting for the results, and then simmering with the results that had been given to them. It was in the test. They were a match. This sort of thing was so much more romantic in the movies and book. Even the doctor was annoyingly excited. There it was in black and white on paper. In two weeks, he’d be ready for her and she'd have to take care of him. She should. Her body buzzed with that knowledge, but the kind of buzzing your body would have made if there was a gun being held to her head. That was her choice. The doctor even said that she could stay at a rehab center for the necessary time, if they chose not to go through with it. As time went on, she’d be at the center for half of the time. She'd be trading two weeks for two days. And no matter how much her body was afraid of it, she wanted to move through all that. He promised he’d be good about it, so she shoved away the thoughts that told her what he really wanted to do to her. 

James moved in his seat, making his chair creak, “Em?”

She swallowed and nodded, “Let’s go food shopping?”

He watched her as she stood and he followed. 

“Is there a Target in walking distance?” she smiled. 

 

After they had gone grocery shopping, stopping in a natural food store for a a few more froofy items that Emmy wanted and wine and beer for "cooking," they'd gone back home. James went to his room and Emmy started to put everything in the cupboards and the fridge, meats, two boxes of blueberry waffles…

“I can take care of those,” James said, emerging with a change of clothes, a shirt and sweats. 

Emmy nodded, looking down, as her stomach squelched. When he walked, she kept trying not to notice the way the shirt hugged his shoulders, how flat his stomach was. She wondered if he had abs.

“You hungry?" he asked, eyebrows up. "I can whip us up something.”

Emmy wanted to get into comfy clothes too. “Cool, I just need to do a few things. I can be back to help." First she fluffed out her blankets on the bed. Laying the sheepskin down on the floor. Then layering the just-fluffed blankets on top of each other, straight, and plopping her cloud pillows all around the space. She pushed her nose into the plush sheets, but they just smelled like blankets. Maybe she could grab a new shirt from James after dinner. Next, she put a good bunch of her new clothes and things in drawers and on top of her tables and drawers, hurrying so she could help with dinner. But she felt sticky and wanted to take a shower, reasoning that he would still need help when she was done. 

She put her new soaps, sponge and razor out in his shower and ran the water. She looked at the razor, almost reaching for it almost like instinct. She hadn't thought to shave while at Aldermont, never really needed to. She had to tell herself that James was not Brock. James was not Brock. So she didn't need to. Still, she got the soap and dragged the razor all over her body, making sure she was as bare as she possibly could be in case that's what he liked. Afterwards she thought about it, she was treating this whole thing like Brock was in this strange relationship too. How the hell was that test right about them?

When she walked back out in her pajamas, she smelled something savory and sweet. “That smells really good,” she grinned walking further, but frowned when she saw the spread of roast potatoes, and chicken already on the table. “Dude, I was gonna help you.” She walked over to the table, maybe there were plates of something she was supposed to get but, even he was already bringing over a bottle of sparkling wine and orange juice. 

“No, You made breakfast. So it’s my turn. It’s fine. You were busy. And we had waffles for breakfast. Roast potatoes and baked chicken.”

Emmy's eyes lit up, she couldn't wait to dig in. They sat down facing the other and divided up the food. He, however, poured her her drink. A level half and half. She would have preferred a lot more sparkling wine, but she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t OK. 

They ate most of their meal. But Emmy couldn’t stomach more than a small roasted thigh and a few potatoes. She did have seconds on the drink and poured it herself. She ignored his eye on her. It was just the one. 

“Are we gonna talk about the doctor?”

She gave her head a slight shake, “What is there to talk about?” And ate the last of her tiny potatoes, downing part of her glass. Even though she’d only had two glasses, her body was already warm, her head already loose, but her trepidation kept swimming back up to the surface with a calm that wanted to envelop her. 

“I meant what I said. I can still go to the hospital.”

“If we do the hospital, you’ll be in there for two weeks, while I’m in another rehab center. I wanted this to get out. And now I'd have to be back there in another two weeks?” She let the word 'forever' stay on her lips. They wold be doing this forever after wouldn't they?

He leaned back in his chair, “I don’t want you to do this, if you don’t want to. I understand you don’t want to be shuttled off some other place.”

“I thought you said it was up to me.”

“I did. But I'm in this too. And I don't want to be a part of making you do something you don't—”

“I’ve already done things I didn’t really want to do. My first heat was with a man I didn’t know. This is not that. I know that.”

“I know it’s not,” he scooted his chair back, grabbing his chin and stroking his bottom lip. “Can we...? Let’s put the food away first. Then we can talk.”

Emmy nodded, getting up, and put the food away in the fridge, while James soaked the dishes in soapy water. She took the opportunity to brush her teeth and wash her face. When she was ready, she noticed his bedroom light on, door ajar. He was probably doing the same, so she ran to the kitchen to drink a little more wine before their talk. 

She knocked on his door, hearing him mutter under his breath. 

“Shit. Umm…” 

Emmy pushed the door out just enough to see. He had no shirt on. Her eyes went right to the slight bulge in his pants and looked up at his face with wide eyes, but not before noticing how sculpted his stomach was. She took in the thick scent coming from his room, layers and layers of him. She should have felt completely safe. His scent should have calmed her down enough. It made her mad to know that wasn't possible.

“I was actually...” he made a motion with his arm. "You can come in."

She looked around. More bookshelves, a computer desk, here and there and thick blue curtains. They probably were terrific at keeping light out. He had a small jar of something on the bed and towel underneath. "Should I come back later?" 

"No, come in," he said grabbing a shirt.

Emmy ambled to the bed. "You can keep your shirt off, it's your room." She might as well get used to him wearing less and less clothes. Pressing her legs together, she tried to stop her brain from conjuring images she didn't want to see. "What's that?" she asked.

"Stuff for my arm. I haven't been using it as much." 

She sat at the edge of the bed and reaching over for it, "Can I see?"

He made a gesture and Emmy scooped it up. Unlabeled. When she lifted it up to her nose it smelled faintly sweet. Probably a mix of oils. "Did you put it on yet?"

Looking around awkwardly, he grabbed a sweater from his dresser and pulled it over his shoulder, before stretching the sleeve over his arm. When he turned there was mottled scars on his other shoulder. Emmy almost stood up to help but he’d been doing this a while. Maybe he felt weird about not having a shirt in front of her. James chose to sit in his computer chair and face her. 

She wondered what kind of porn he liked looking at. That was very telling sometimes. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?” she asked.

He looked at his armrest and started picking at the frayed end. “Emmy, why do you think I chose to do this?”

Emmy shrugged, “To be nice?”

James laughed, looking down, like he was ashamed of his answer. “I grew up in Shelbyvillle, Indiana. At the time, it was mostly all Betas and Omegas. My mom and dad wanted to have me grow up there. Good schools. Low crime. But then I presented, and all my friends turned on me overnight. Friends couldn't hang out, wouldn't sit with me or share their snacks. One time my pen ran out of ink and the teacher couldn't get anyone to let me borrow one. The friends I had, just stared. Later, I’d learned that all the parent’s told my friends and everyone else to keep away from me. Word spread that there was an "Alpha" in town." He cleared his throat a few times, smell muted now. "I was still small, only ten. But that didn't make a difference. Guys coming up to me calling me a rotten Alpha. I was still growing up, I didn't know what the hell they were talking about. One time I got grabbed by my coat in a store and I had to wriggle to get out. Left him my coat and ran crying home to my mom.”

Emmy listened, tears partway burning in her throat. Alphas weren’t bad inherently, but if they did it would be harder to manage. It's true these people had felt safe with no Alphas around. But still, he was just a kid. The whole town should have known better and judged him by his actions. Given him a real chance. She pulled up her knees onto the bed. He’d actually cried. Why was she surprised that that was his reaction? He wasn’t impenetrable from pain. Alphas were not robots. But all her life, she'd seen and heard their jokes and everything else.

“It took about a year for us to move somewhere else. My parents found a place in Kensington. Got enrolled, made new friends.” Then he chuckled, eyes twinkling, “That’s how I met Steve. He was as short as I was when I presented, but I was already starting to grow. There was a fight and everyone ran out to the track field to watch this tiny kid and this huge asshole, blood running down his face before the coach showed up. He was easy to spot later on. I found out that it was a normal thing for him, so I found him and told him I’d help him.”

“And that’s how you became friends?”

James guffawed, “God, no! He said he didn’t need a hand out and could take care of himself and got pummeled out of his lunch money the next week. I didn’t say anything. I just sat by him and let him have my chips and half my sandwich. Then that was it. I got good grades. I took art and dance. Just saw stuff to sign up for. Didn’t know why. I figured out later, it was still because I was trying to prove I wasn’t the wrong kind of Alpha. I’m still trying to do that. That’s why I signed up to do this. Not because it was right, but because I needed to prove what I was.”

Emmy swallowed, “I'm also a part of this. You aren't making me do anything. It's not the best thing. But none of the options are, uh, ideal?" She made a face.

He moved up in his chair, head over clasped hands, “I don't want to do anything I think that might prove they were right about me. I get you don't want to sacrifice your freedom... You just got out of something horrible, what is it, a month ago? And you're gearing yourself for something not much better."

She shrugged, sitting cross-legged now, "Oh no. It sounds a whole heck of a lot better. Trust me." She cleared her throat, "You said you don't wanna hurt me. He..." She huffed a breath, the words hard on their way up, "That one made sure I was in pain. So... " She laughed for am moment before sobering and staring him square in the face. "I am scared. But I was thinking that if I had this I could compare. What was bad and what was OK. You'd be helping me figure that out. Maybe make my head start working properly." She leaned forward, close enough to almost touch his hand. "I mean, you get in cars right? Did that take time?"

He cleared his throat again and wiped the corners of his eyes, "No, you're right. Years ago, I did something. When I was almost better, I actually couldn't stand being in a car at all. But there's a way to sort of expose yourself so it doesn't get as bad. Talked to some guys in group and we got together and did a desert tour. Big bus. Nothing but tourists and a handful of vets." 

"So that's how you did it? That's how you can ride cars now?" Her eyes were wide, surprised at how right she was. It was that easy? Still though, he didn't ride in the backs of cars, still looked stiff but maybe it was that abrasive driver.

"It doesn't work for everyone. And I'm doing a lot better, but I won't be riding in the backs of cars or cooking on a gas range any time soon."

She looked at him with wide eyes, "How can I know if we don't try it? We could start that... then?" Her jaw squeezed tight together as she waited.

She heard him stand, but didn't look up. He sat beside her on the bed, so Emmy could see him from the chest down. "If you're terrified and this is something you want to try. I should be up for it. You just have to promise me, you'll be honest and tell me how comfortable you are or if I'm doing something you don't want."

She nodded. "I will." Then made a sour face, "But what if it sounds horrible?" He'd know all her thoughts, just what ran through her head just by looking at normal stuff.

"All the more important to," he smiled, tilting his head down a bit to her.

She nodded, "So, what now? Like, are we gonna set a date or something?"

He gave her a curious smile, "Yeah, actually, yeah! How 'bout I take you on dates from now until then? It might help to get this whole thing happen as organically as possible."

Her head perked up, "That sounds really good, actually."

"We're gonna need some ground rules. Like how am I allowed to touch you?"

Emmy's cheeks warmed, "Do you want to touch me?"

"I've been trying hard not to. Just to guide you sometimes or tap you on the shoulder."

Emmy looked down. So, he didn't want to touch her? Not like that. "Oh, is that all?"

"I want to hold you. When you look terrified and it's the only thing I can think to do but I know I shouldn't. Don't wanna have you shrink away."

"If you do other stuff, are you only doing it to make the dates feel natural?"

"If I do it, I want to."

"OK, you can do all that," she sat back on her heels now and squeezed her hands into fists, knowing he saw them ball up. 

She could feel him watching her carefully. "Emmy, what are you not telling me?"

"I want you to do all that stuff. I've been wanting you to put your arm around me or hug me. But I'm terrified of being touched, even though it went away like on the couch."

"I can deal with that."

She rocked herself, a smile on her face, "I'd be OK with a kiss on the cheek one day."

"Noted." 

"What's definitely off the table right now then?"

She tilted her head down, squeezing her toes into her feet, "No sex, or kissing on the mouth, and hugs from behind." After that, her eyes stared at a point on his comforter. 

"Em? Are you OK?" 

She started to nod, but stopped, the fear was creeping up her spine again, "No, I don't feel good." 

"Can I hug you?" he asked, arms up. She nodded. He sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her. 

Her body bucked, as she made noises in his arms as she shook. She grabbed his sweater. "Shh, it's OK. You're OK now," she said to herself. The fear, the image of him behind her. She felt how strong he was, he could take her now no problem her body knew that. "No, shh. It's OK."

James mimicked Emmy's own words and stroked her head, down to the small of her back, making her wince. 

"Not th-there!" she stuttered, shutting her eyes. Her body and mind already showing her know what it would be like to be shoved down into the mattress by him. She hung on tight and let her nose find his scent glands, telling her body this was supposed to make her feel better. It would.

He rubbed her arms and the top of her back, "You're with me now. You're with me now. You're OK, Em."

She nodded and squeezed him hard back eventually settling down, still twitching here and there until she finally calmed down, "Thank you," she said, reaching out to touch the collar on his sweater. He was a good one.

"Do you want to stay here?"

"Uh-huh." She turned around in his arms, looking around. "Do you have a TV in here?"

"That is actually a surprise." He reached over and grabbed some remotes, tossing them in front of her on the bed. One opened a cupboard, revealing his TV. The other, turned on the TV.

They watched a few episodes of "Everybody Loves Raymond" and one of "Law and Order." She kept expecting him to get under the covers, but he stayed on top. When she got sleepy enough she patted him arm, said goodnight, almost asking to keep one of his shirts but opting not to and went to her room. She settled into her nest and left the door ajar. It was too dark and it freaked her out with it shut, so she'd need to get a nightlight for her room. 

That night, she didn't remember any of her dreams. 

That morning, she woke up well-rested and made sure to make them real scrambled eggs with crème fraîche, truffle oil, and chives with toast.

After breakfast, Emmy was reading one of her books in the living room. The Omega had met a new Alpha and was hesitant to get to know him better, but she still thought he was hot. She felt James walk up beside her on the couch.

"Em, do you have any sort of clothes that could pass for retro, something that you could wear your Chucks with?"

She tucked her thumb in her book, giving him a curious look, "Maybe?"

"Are you up for any kind of dancing?" he asked waggling his eyebrows up.

It was hard to tamp down her smile. Where was he gonna take her? And in retro clothes? "Things with a partner, yes. Things with crop tops and flower crowns, no."

"I'll come by to pick you up at seven then," he said, giving the couch a slap.

Emmy lay on the couch, with a goofy smile on her face. No date had ever taken her dancing before. She'd been wanting to do any sort of partner dance. When she was a teen, a friend had her debut and she was in her court, they learned all sorts of basic dances. She would have been alright with salsa or merengue too. But with the prospect of "old clothes" there was only one dancing option she could think of.


	13. If I Didn't Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this whole thing probably. Maybe not the end?

After someone from the D.C. Omega center dropped off her temporary ID and had a little chat with both James and her separately, the rest of the morning involved googling easy retro hairstyles alone in James' room. He had a starry night sky as his desktop background. And no funny little folders that she could find. But the door was open so she was always afraid of accidentally clicking on something juicy as soon as he showed up. And she’d be caught snooping around on his computer. After she’d given up on that specific endeavor, she went all in on the appropriate hairstyles for their dance date. He’d given her a big clue with the names of his frogs. But ground her teeth looking at the myriad of victory curls that would never stay on her head no matter how much hair spray or clips, especially clips, she’d think to use to keep everything in place. 

Towards the bottom, she found a simple style. Wide curls on the bottom and hair pulled back. Maybe this time bobby pins would work. But just in case, they needed to get to a store and get a few things. For all the pictures she found, she for sure, needed to get red lipstick. 

Looking back at the open door, her hand clicked on the search bar and typed slow. Like she wasn’t really doing it. ‘O.’ Heart rate picking up with just the first letter. What was she doing exactly? ‘M.’ And then the bar completed: OmegaHub, with no other specific searches. The back of her neck prickled and tightened seeing the website. But that was not good enough. Did he erase his history? And then her hands moved and searched as far back on his history for a week ago. There were searches for articles on getting rid of phobias and baked beef recipes. She deduced he probably wanted to find a way to cook steak on his own, without using the gas range. More recently she found searches on help with sexual abuse survivors and specific reddit forums for advice from other support Alphas and Omegas talking about exactly what they wanted. Her jaw felt thick with guilt. Why did she even try to do this? There was no way he was this perfect. But here was further proof. She hovered over one link, curious to see what further advice James had gotten. But command q’d right out when she heard his footsteps approach. 

James grasped the door frame. “Hey, did you want Chinese for lunch?”

Emmy grinned wide, heart thundering in her head from the semi-close call. "Chinese? Sounds good."

James walked over. “Here.” Emmy moved over and he typed in the site for a Chinese place. "So... we can get you the menu."

She half-expected him to wrap his arms around her, but he stayed on to one side. When the site popped up, Emmy tapped his hand on the keyboard, “It’s cool. I already have my order if it’s like most Chinese places.” She made out a few things on the screen verifying this, before looking back over at him. He was so close, she could scent him clearly. Her nose wanted her to move closer, rove over his arms. She looked up at his face. “Mmm... After lunch, I need to get a few more things for tonight. Is that OK?” Her eyes wandered back down to his lips and collarbone, wondering what it would be like to feel his skin there, how warm it would be.

“Yeah, I need to pick up a few things from Target, too.” He reached into his pocket, only pressing a few buttons before the phone rang. She leaned onto the chair to feel the warmth his shoulder left, but he was too focused on talking on the phone to see. He covered the phone, "What are you getting?"

 

After a huge lunch, they took the bus to Target. Emmy got more bobby pins than any normal person needed, along with a hair curler, and red lipstick. She made her way over to the cooking appliance area, leaving James to peruse the candle aisle. They had had white rice with lunch and she needed to have it at the ready at the house for some dinners. Not having it for so long was so weird. 

“You looking at rice cookers?”

She looked down, squeezing her basket handles, “Umm, no… Not exactly.”  


“I heard crockpots work well for that,” he said and walked past Emmy to where they were in the aisle. 

Emmy’s mouth hung open at the prospect of cooking her rice in a crockpot. Her dead relatives would be staring down at her in sheer and utter disappointment. She ran over and poked his shoulder, “Actual—N-no. It’s cool. We can go. I don't need that,” she said and pulled at his arm.

He gave her a look that said he knew otherwise, “You cleaned me out of my share of rice at lunch.”

"You said it was OK!" 

"It's fine. Are we really gonna buy rice every day? We're already here," he looked back over at the selections. 

“I do, but it’s already a lot,” she lifted up her basket of goodies. “It’s weird. I feel weird about it.” 

“Could use a crockpot to make some stew here. So… Rice cooker or crockpot? Your choice.” He grabbed a box and started to pull it out. 

“Do you really need either?” Emmy grimaced.

“As much as I like eating out, I can cook,” he said. “And if you want to cook rice in here, you can.” He tapped the box.

It would be better if they used something that had more than once purpose. She could get a job later and buy an actual rice cooker or just buy rice and use a damn pot. She thought on it, rubbing her tongue on the roof of her mouth, “OK, I accept.” 

James hauled up a box into his arm. Emmy followed, catching up quickly, despite his long legs. 

“Listen,” he said, as they walked towards the shortest line nearby. “It’s getting late and there might not be enough time to get ready. We should head back right after this.”

She nodded, even though she wanted to get rice afterwards and Target definitely did not have what she needed. It would have to wait another day. As they checked out, Emmy watched James smiling and interacting with the cashier. Polite, even chatty. She remembered the annoying driver in Portland and just generally how he would talk to people. She expected him to talk about what happened, but it just seemed to roll off his back. He'd been so understanding with whatever was going on with her. James was just nice, but eerily nice. She wondered what she'd have to do to see his uglier side. Her father and Brock had very easy buttons. Her dad had a lot of them and Brock was just the questions thing and he got annoyed or quiet when she refused to do certain things. Maybe James was actually hair puller? Or he liked biting. What if he liked her bite marks? While they were here, she could get stockings, cover up the ones on her legs maybe. But stockings or tights didn't go with her outfit, especially the Chucks. Or she could wear a cardigan so he couldn’t see her scars. Maybe he’d get territorial and want to give her his own to cover them up. Being "true mates," they'd take this time. Is that what he'd do when the time came? Would it hurt as much?

 

When they were back at home, Emmy took a half shower, leaving her hair dry so it’d be faster to style. James went in after her. Her thoughts followed her home, filling her head, repeating even in the shower. She put on her matching underwear in her room and her blouse and skirt. The feelings bubbled up in her till she was burning with it. Yes, it was their first date and she was already ruining it for herself. Not knowing what else to do, she walked into her nest and shut the door, realizing that she still needed a night light. But right now, she didn’t care all that much. In the darkness, it was easier to let everything wash over her completely. She lay on the bed and worried her clothes would wrinkle and took them off, and folded them in a corner. 

She pulled the covers over her and remembered. Whenever she’d forgotten to do an assignment in elementary school, which was often... Always forgetting something, the next page of questions, finishing the wrong project, or a whole ‘nother set of problems. Then she'd wind up with detention, short bursts of time with her father’s belt and his rage. Brock loved squeezing her neck, even in bed sometimes. There were times late at night, or so early in the morning that he’d carry her to his room to take care of his knot while she was still half asleep. She pressed her hands on her ears, whimpering at the burn in her chest, like acid dissolving her bones inside her. And James was so nice. She kept seeing his smile. It didn't feel real. He was a fake and a liar and she’d do something that would get the real him to come out. Her breaths ran ragged with her thoughts, turning over with clenched fists. She pulled off her underwear and flopped hard on her chest, imagining it was him shoving her down. What if all it took was spending his rut with him? Then he'd take her whenever he wanted. He'd been considerate with her all this time. Would it matter if she wanted to or not afterwards? She'd already said yes once. Was he the type to do that? Brock was like that in the beginning. Nice, thoughtful, until she said yes. She swallowed. That was wrong. He did all those things on purpose to reel her in. She chose James. All of it. Still, her chest tightened, what if she picked wrong this time? There was a chance that would happen, no matter what. It was psychology and luck. 

She pressed her stomach up like it was someone else making her present and plunged two fingers inside of her. It was surprising how easy her fingers slid in. She took them out rubbing the liquid between her fingers and touched her other hand back between her legs, having it come away wet. She’d never been this slick before. The Beta implant must have worked it's way totally out of her system by now. This meant her pain receptors would be off for the rut. It would be the way it was always supposed to be. Easy. And that left her feeling angry for a different reason. All at once it disappeared, and she was left near naked and feeling like an idiot. Everything came back to focus and everything she felt and thought was wrong. She palmed her eyes. What the hell was going on in that head of hers?

She changed her underwear, knowing the smell of her slick would set other Alphas off, especially if they were going out. It was time. In order to clear her head of the rest of the night, she put on her clothes, sat on her bed and rifled through her box of past dates from her calendar. Staring at the cute little animals always worked to make her feel better. This was the best present Hill could have given her. When her mind had fully been cleansed of her awful thoughts, she shrugged on a cardigan and got her shoes on. But when she walked out, the living room was strangely silent. "James?" She walked around the kitchen, dining area, and whispered, "Uh, Bucky?" Her heart jumped in her throat when someone knocked at the door. It took her a moment to remember that he said he was going to "pick her up at 7." Apparently he meant that literally. She smiled, running up to the door. Hesitating for a moment longer, when she expected to see Brock on the other side of the door. But when she did, it was just James with his hair slicked back, a dark brown suit jacket wide at the shoulders, a wide salmon pink tie, and tweed pants and shiny ass brown shoes. She'd seen him in sweats and shirts and jackets and jeans. This was a guy that would look good in a paper bag. Finally, she was looking at him right in his blue eyes, "You look... nice," she smiled, glancing away.

He held his hand out to her, eyebrows up and a smile that made her cheeks warm, "You ready to go, doll?"

Drums shook the floor in the club. Emmy could feel the horns blaring in her shoulders, as they were lead through a throng of jumping, kicking bodies in wide pants and dresses on the dance floor to their table. 

She leaned into James so he could hear her over the music, "You reserved a table for us?"

"Pulled some strings. I know a guy." James pulled her chair out for her.

"Thank you." Emmy laughed. Of course he "knew a guy".

A waiter came by for their order. Emmy barely looked at the little plastic menu in the center of the table, but when she grabbed it, she realized it was just drinks. Manhattans, side cars, daiquiris. Old stuff.

"Good evening. I'm Walter and I'll be serving you this evening." He nodded his head down to both of them. "Our dinner and drink menu is directly inspired by Stork Club menu. Tonight have roast beef with gravy, new potatoes, and roast carrots. We also have braised chicken breast with gravy, new potatoes and string beans. As well as dessert upon request. Are we ready for drinks? Or are we ready to order?

They all shared a look. James gestured for her to order first.

"I'll have the roast beef."

James nodded. "Same."

Walter wrote down their orders, waiting, "And drinks—"

"Side car," James answered.

Emmy looked over the five drinks over and over. "The frozen daiquiri."

Walter nodded and went on his way.

She pushed the drink menu to the edge of the table. "Is that 'your' drink? The side car?"

But James just chuckled. She watched the way he swallowed and fidgeted in his seat. Soon after they were given water by another server and their drinks soon followed. Emmy cocked her head upon seeing her drink. She was expecting a blue blended drink, but it was a crushed ice drink and looked more like a margarita. It even had a slice of lime on the rim. She took a sip and glanced over at James wit the corner of her eye. He took one gulp of his drink and then another. She wondered what he was freaking out about. Was it messing up dance moves or doing the wrong thing?

"I thought it would be red," He tilted his head close to hers, raising his voice above the music.

Emmy took another sip, her toes already tapping. "I thought it was gonna be blue."

He offered his glass to her, "Wanna sip?"

Emmy scrunched up half of her face. Just watching the golden brown drink slosh around was already burning her throat. She was ready to tell him 'no thank you.' Before curiosity got the best of her, "Actually, yeah. Try mine." And they slid their drinks to the other, sipping at the same time. It tasted almost exactly like Emmy thought it would. Pure alcohol. Slightly sweet. She made a face broadcasting her distaste for the drink.

James smiled. "Daiquiri's good." He looked over and guffawed seeing her grimace. "Well, if you like it that much, we can switch drinks."

Emmy chuckled, and faced him, "How kind of you! I love tasting rubbing alcohol in all my drinks."

"Should we order you another one? I feel like you'll finish that in no time."

She canted her head, "Aww, you're so sweet. Just like that terrible drink." And switched their drinks back. "Blech, if all your 'drinks' taste like that, I'll keep my tongue to myself." She paused, realizing the exact words she used.

He didn't respond. "So about the dancing..." Movement on the dance floor had them both looking. A woman was tossed around a man, snaking up before swooping back down to the ground, swinging through his legs, and turning upright again to move straight into another step. Emmy was probably not gonna do that this exact night. James patted her hand, "I can't lift my arm up the way I'm supposed to at these dances. So bear with me."

"Of course!" Emmy nodded. "I thought we were gonna do something like that."

"Give my arm a month. We can."

Emmy's eyes popped. "I take that back, bro."

"I'm kidding!"

A slower dance started. Something familiar, but she didn't know the name.

"The food will be out as soon as we get out there but," he lifted her hand with his, "Care to dance?"

She smiled and got up, eying a tray coming through the tables and guessing it was their food. He clasped her hand and brought her near the front of the stage. The drum sets and stands had been vacated to let the DJ play the slower songs. James put his hands on Emmy, hand halfway up, grinning. With their height difference, he didn't have to lift that high at all. She put her other hand on his waist and he did the same. They swayed to the music. Soon she found her head resting on his chest and even through the music, she could feel his heart beat. 

For the more jittery dances, they jumped with the rest of them. James spun with a grace that made her think, if her really wanted to do those fancy moves, he definitely could. Some dances couples did fast kicks, turning out, moving like popcorn. It looked fun and they both tried to copy the dance, laughing when they weren't fast enough and continuously missed steps. They went back to their table where their salads were waiting for them. And then their dinner. Both cut into their entrees and James held up his fork to hers and they touched forks before eating. 

"When did you get this outfit?" Emmy tugged at his suit sleeve.

James smirked, loosening his tie. "I have more than just this."

"So, do you take all your dates here?" she grinned and laid her chin on her elbow.

He gave a hearty chuckle. "Not as much as I want to. Not every body wants to dance to music their grandpa liked."

She wrinkled her nose, "Well, they're missing out." And looked back out at the dance floor. Emmy caught him grinning at her in the corner of her eye. "What?"

"You look beautiful, Em."

She looked at him, but bit her lips together to keep her smile down.

Through the night, they danced mostly to the slow songs, too full to really get into the other dances and sitting down for them before getting back up for another slowie. Horns started and Emmy's head perked up as a man sang a familiar song.

She leaned into his chest, "Do you have this movie?"

"Best movie out there besides 'The Godfather.' And 'The Dark Knight.'"

Emmy chuckled, she knew that list. "Oh, are you IMDB now?"

"Is 'Shawshank' really a good date movie?"

"It is if we want it to be." Her hand tightened around his waist. But he held her just the same.

They'd gotten ice cream for dessert. It was fun to have pistachio at the venue. Then they danced one more time, utterly failing to get the exact dance moves down again and laughing all the same. 

They went home and got ready for bed. Surprisingly, her curls and even the bobby pins hung on well, with minimal change. She combed her hair, a tooth snagging on something tight on her scalp and found a pin still tucked in her hair. Emmy left her underwear off and just put her pajamas on. She was always comfortable without it anyway. When she walked into the living room, the movie was ready to be played. James popped over in a sweater and sweats and sat on the couch. Emmy joined him and he put the blanket over them both. She leaned on him, while he draped his arm over her. They listened to The Ink Spots sing "If I Didn't Care" while the opening credits rolled out, watching Andy Dufresne drinking in his car with a gun in his hand. Throughout the movie, she found James thumbing near her bite marks. Towards the middle he was running his fingers all over her wrist, turning it in such a way that told her he was inspecting it. She swallowed and waited, but he never said a word about them. After a while, they stopped moving and just focused on the movie.

Andy reached for the sky in the rain, having pulled off his shirt. Emmy sighed deep. He had been through so much and he still managed to come out OK in the end. Quite literally. It made Emmy feel like she'd be OK one day too. Granted, Andy had like two decades to get through being assaulted multiple times and being incarcerated. Not like this was a movie that would dwell on him recovering from trauma anyway.

James rubbed her shoulder, "I think we should call it a night?" 

She smiled and got up, but followed him down the hall, lingering on his side of the hall.

"Did you need something?"

She bit her thumb and walked over to him. 

"Did you wanna sleep here?"

She kept her thumb in her teeth, waiting for him to get in bed. He opened the covers for her, but once inside he turned his back to hers. Emmy thought to tap his shoulder or run around and get in the other way to face him, but didn't move. This is not what she wanted or expected. If he'd only just hug her, he'd know how much access she was letting him have. She reached out and pulled at his arm, easy. He mumbled as he finally turned over and Emmy grabbed his arm to pull over her waist, tucking his fingers in, his warmth firm on her back. Her brain wanted to think of bad images and go back to all the things she was letting herself think before. But he smelled safe, felt safe, especially with the night they'd had. And it seemed from his even breath, he was already fast asleep. Emmy let herself drift off, the alcohol making everything dip around her now that she was still. 

Early in the morning, his arm was too heavy on her. She pushed it off, but her forehead was wet and her shirt was sticking to her back. It felt like the heater was on high. Still, she was coasting under the waves of sleep. She pulled off her top, tossing it across the room and settled onto her stomach, covering the side of her chest with her arm. It still wasn't enough, so she kicked the sheets off her feet so they could breathe. Finally, it was cool enough for her to sleep again. 


	14. Don't Dream It's Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!!!!! I know, super vague. The whole thing. 
> 
> This was supposed to go up earlier but adult stuff and sleep.

When Emmy woke up, she lazily wiped the sweat off the back of her neck. She shoved off the thick blankets, surprised for a moment her shirt was off. The cool air on her back was a relief, but her neck was already damp with sweat again. Her hands clammier, head swimming with warmth. Remembering where she was, she leaned back, using her peripheral vision to check if he was still beside her. But there was no one there, she fully turned now to see that she was alone in the room, the door shut. She rasped her tongue on the roof of her dry mouth. Water. It felt like the heater was on blast. So she checked the central air monitor on the wall of the room, picking up her shirt to put it on back on along the way. Emmy frowned seeing that it was supposed to be a comfortable 67 degrees inside. She felt on her neck with the back of her hand and then her forehead and prayed this was some sort of food poisoning, alcohol. Breath caught in her throat. She was sure as shit not ready for the alternative. 

Walking to her room, she slipped on new, loose, cotton pants and a fresh t-shirt. She looked up, as if she could see through the ceiling to the sky above. If They just let her be for now, seeing she couldn’t handle this just yet. They’d have some sort of mercy and do something for her to make this not happen. If she got a therapist and started to really deal and process this seriously, she’d be spared. If she did something it would be OK. The world whirled, her head heavied as she searched through her stuff to find the appropriate documents. 

When she passed through the hallway, the bathroom door was closed, light on, shower running. Hopefully, that gave her enough time and tip-toed to the phone. Still she was kicking herself. She should have done this the very night they first got back. All the things she’d been thinking and doing… Maybe even wanting? And now she was scrambling. Might be too fucking late for her. But she couldn't concentrate. Plopping the paper on the little table between the living area and kitchen, she dashed to the fridge to get a cold bottle of water, chugged it while walking back, then ran the cool bottle behind her neck, and under her shirt on her belly. She wiped the water that dribbled down her chin, took a quick breath and dialed. She let her nails drag together on the table, jaw tight. Glancing up once or twice, to make sure James was still in the shower, not wanting questions or a conversation until she knew what was what. In her head, flashed a vision of their warm, wet bodies in the shower causing a lump to thicken in her chest. 

“Good morning, Genevieve Mantis’ office?” The clerk had a sweet but grainy cadence to their voice.

Emmy took a breath, “Uh, hi? I was from the Omega Center… Aldermont. And I was given this contact,” she winced. “I chose this therapist. I choose this therapist. Umm…” What the fuck was she saying?

“You were referred to us by Aldermont? Is that correct?”

Emmy sighed, she could hear the smile and care the clerk on the other line was taking. “Yes, I’m with a support Alpha and I need to see the doctor? Dr. Mantis?” She looked at the paper and saw no title near her name or a PhD either.

“Genevieve Mantis is a licensed clinical social worker. One of the best Omegas in her field.” This was the first she’d heard of such a thing. Ten years ago, this would not have been possible. Even though society was already making changes the year she was born. “After an intake appointment, she can arrange future sessions with you when her schedule clears up in a few weeks.”

Emmy swallowed, there it was. 'Best in the field?' Possibly because she might be one of the only ones in the country? “So, how long would it take to see her?”

“Mmm… We can have your intake for the 25th and we can see how it goes from there.”

Absolutely screwed. “And that’s the soonest possible appointment?" She looked through the rest of the names on her list. "Would there be other good therapists with freer schedules?”

“Mmm… I’m afraid, you’ll likely find similar wait times with them. Is there a specific reason you wish to be seen sooner?”

Emmy was conscious of every beat of her heart, “I need... help. I think my heat... is starting, but I’ve been only with my Alpha... for a week.”

“Suppressants should take care of that—”

“We have an issue... where suppressants won’t work for us.” She cleared her throat in order to punctuate what she was trying not to say.

The line stayed silent. Emmy assumed the clerk was confused or thinking. It was probably both. 

“Mmm… Could you hold on a minute?”

“Of course,” Emmy’s stomach soured, looking up right when the bathroom door unlocked. Motown hold music played in her ear. It occurred to her this Mantis must be popular enough to warrant actual hold music. James walked out with damp hair, already in a shirt and sweats that seemed different from yesterday’s. She saw herself running her fingers through his hair. Her eyes went over his shoulders and down to where the shirt dimpled at the small of his back. And blushing when her eyes watched even the curve of his ass, as he walked back to his room. He hadn't looked over back at her at all. Wouldn't he have sense her, especially now? She suspected with her not talking, he probably thought she was still in the room sleeping. The door clicked shut and she was still on hold. James had way too many fucking clothes on after a shower. 

The line clicked back, “Would you be willing to come in at 11:30am today?”

“11:30? Yes. Yeah, thank you. So much. Don't you need my name?”

“Please understand this is an intake appointment, however Genevieve can still advise you about your upcoming heat. Have your most important questions ready for her. Part of the reason we took so long is that we checked the system records with this number. Emilia, right?” 

Emmy nodded profusely before she actually said, “Yes." That was actually pretty cool and a little scary. "Again. Thank you so very much.” And laid the receiver back down. 

She leaned her forehead against the cool wall and pressed her wrists against it too. She groaned, it’d been so long before she’d ever gotten this hot during the heat. All those times ago, it was just extra warmth, and the overwhelming urge to… Her breath stuttered. Her legs already on their way to his door, hand hesitating before knocking. If she was in fact in her pre-heat, he would have been able to detect it. Maybe she was just sick. Maybe it was the daiquiri or the roast beef? Still, she was at his door. Her eyes widened, when James opened the door, taking in the sight of his chest and oiled shoulder. Emmy took a step back, swallowing. 

“Morning,” he smiled, looking away like a sheepish boy. Her eyes wanted to peer further down, but she kept them up at his eyes. It wasn’t an overwhelming want, she just had to be near him. “l'll put a shirt on if you want. I need to put the rest my salve on. It’ll be a sec.” He pushed the door, but Emmy held her hand out. 

“I can help you if you want.” A lie. She kept her head down, so he couldn’t tell she was smiling. Her chest was burning with something new.

James looked more surprised than anything. Not the reaction Emmy wanted. He backtracked across the room, looking behind him and moving the jar to the center edge of the bed, before sitting down. Emmy wondered what it would be like to straddle him then and there. How long until she felt him stiff on her belly?

“Just take a little and rub down.”

Emmy nodded. Part of her wanted to laugh. It was like watching porn. Pressing her lips together since he could see her face now, she sat on his left, scooping a bit on her finger and rubbing it between her palms before doing as instructed. Once she was doing that, she was so concentrated on doing it right that her brain stopped thinking about anything else. She found where the shinier part ended and continued on after the part he finished, just above his elbow. She noticed his eyes deeply focused on her ministrations. Was he thinking of her doing other things with her hands? Or was he watching to see if she was doing it right?

“Sorry. I look because I can’t really feel it. Not in the normal way. I think that if I keep watching it, what I see will eventually be something I feel. The nerves still need to grow through the graft.”

Emmy made a face. So she was completely wrong about that. She blinked in an effort to clear her head of everything. “I thought you said that it’ll be good in a month. And then another time you said it was like a two month thing?”

James watched her, puzzled, “Well, after a month I’ll be able to move my arm above my head. No problem. In two months, the grafts will have fused with the fat graft and it won’t feel waxy and stiff anymore. And in a year the nerves will be all there. Hopefully,” he gave her a soft smile, before his face sobered again. "Here," he moved and pulled his pant leg up, seeing a border of pink skin where his thigh started. "In two months my arm with look like that. I was real lucky." He pointed to his shoulder. "I do the whole arm to finish off."

Emmy made a face and tried to concentrate on the task at hand, doing as he said. Maybe she was just thinking about it so much, but his arm felt softer from almost a week ago. The concoction was working. And he probably wasn't choosing those words on purpose. They were just sort of unfortunate for the situation. Most likely, he had no idea what she was thinking.“Does it hurt? Am I doing it OK?” It was a miracle he wasn't totally engulfed in fire, Emmy thought. He had somewhere else to get more skin.

“Thank you for warming it up first. You’re doing a ‘real swell’ job.” He gave her a huge grin this time. 

“You’re very welcome,” she laughed. "I don't know any more old slang. Oh! Nice gams, sir!" and then guffawed. So did he, but it was louder. It made Emmy smile. It wasn't that funny but he was laughing more than she should be. That meant he liked her. She reached back down to his fingers and touched his soft but callused palms. 

“It pinches, when it’s cold. The graft sites. But, practically good as new,” he mimed knocking on his arm. Emmy lifted his hand up. Tracing the lines in his palm. He chuckled, retracting his hand. “That tickles.” She put her hands on her lap and sat further up on the bed, staring at his arm, finally fully realizing what she was doing and just how nearly naked he was. “Emmy, what are you doing?” His eyes kept darting to her neck from her face. Could he sense it now? Or was he just guessing? She put her hand on his shoulder, briefly touching the scar that ran around it, before thumbing his neck. She braced her hand now, by his thigh and pressed forward, close enough to feel his breath on her collarbone, making her shiver. Energized, when he moved his head towards her, she tried hard to keep from pulling away, pushing her head forward until he closed their gap.  


He tasted like minty toothpaste, sweet, still cold from the water somehow. She was painfully aware that she had not had the chance to care of her own morning breath. But neither of them stopped. They dug they noses, instinctively knowing to go down the opposite side of the other’s neck to their scent glands. Emmy took James in, eyes widening when she felt his fingers on her bite marks there. She covered them both with her hands, looking away, mortified and feeling the need to apologize.  


“Is it that you don’t want to be touched there or is it something else?” James asked.  


She searched his eyes for disgust, but they remained soft so she had to look down. “They’re supposed to go away. They won’t be there forever.” In the corner of her eye, she could see him working something out in his head. The apology still on her tongue. “Why were you touching me like that?” 

“I wasn’t thinking anything," he shrugged. "I just wanted to. But, if you don’t want me to touch them, I won’t.”

“Do you think you’ll be mad I have them? Later. When we... If we get closer?”

He shook his head incredulously, “Why would I be mad at you?”

It struck her then. Every first that had been taken away from her. There would be nothing left of her that would be just his. What would he do then to mark her? Even the mating marks were anywhere he'd think to bite, telling him another Alpha was there first.

“Talk to me. You look like you’re in pain, Em,” he said, as he grasped her hand, sniffing sharply.

Something twitched between her legs. Why couldn’t she just want him in peace? Fear pinched in her throat. An image of him gripping her neck, shoving her down on the bed. Her body already felt his knees digging her legs apart. Gritting her teeth, she leaned back over onto him, lips so close, but he held her shoulders back. 

“Em, you smell terrified. I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

She was determined to not let her fear dictate what she wanted to do. The only way she’d know what he was going to do was to actually do them. Slowly. “I want to kiss you some more. But I don’t know how to not be scared, when I’m alone with you. It’s not your fault. I’m really sorry I’m like this.” Her hands flew back up to cover her neck again.

He smiled at her, rubbing her arms, trying to ply them down, “It’s OK. It’s OK. Are you just scared generally or are you afraid of something specific?”

Her shoulder jerked, hand spasming twice as she thought of her next words. “I keep seeing you… I know you said you’d never… But I keep seeing, feeling what you could do to me.”

His eyes shuttered, head ducking down, “Things he did.”

She clenched her fists. Was this the best time for this? “They.” His jaw hardened for a moment before he went right back to focusing on her. “Not at the same time exactly. It wasn't like that. I just don't… I don’t want to explain it right now.”

“Can I hold you?” Once she nodded, he raised her arms, enveloping her. 

Then there was only one question in her head. “You really don't want to do the things they did to me?” He could. It was irrefutable. In school, she heard it a lot. Alphas, even as kids learning how to manipulate Omegas, get them to spend their heat with an Alpha. It was in a lot of Alpha magazines and some Omega ones like it was good and normal for them. “I don’t know why you just wouldn’t. I'm already here with you and I'm costing you money.” A part of her waited for it to happen. 

A tighter squeeze was her only answer. 

Her heart was pulsing thickly in her chest, "Come on! Don't you wanna fuck me hard? I know you can. Knot me. It'd be your first time. It'll feel real good to you, like nothing you've ever felt before." It was in her head, already felt him stretching her, if he was bigger it would hurt. But she was already expecting that. It would be almost like a welcome home. Her fingertips dug into his back. "You can cover my mouth. Or choke me. Sometimes it's better, when I'm unconscious." She just wanted to want him in peace. "I don't understand why you don't want to hurt me," her voice cracked. "It's the easiest thing in the world to do!" 

He rocked her, rubbing soft circles on her back. For a long while, everything hung in the air until she felt his chest shake. The first time it happened, Emmy already suspected what was happening. But by the time she heard his breath hitch. She knew he was crying. Tears pooled in her eyes before she could think to tell him anything. And then the only thing she could think to say afterwards were apologies, so she squeezed him as tight as she could, nudging at his neck with her nose. 

"Not easy. Not for me."

"I know that. My brain know thats. But there's the rest of me."

James nodded. "I wish I could just tighten up and cook a steak on a stove. I tried once, but I kept seeing the fire blast out."

"And your therapy says?"

"It's a lot of rewiring that needs to be done in your brain. In order to stop associating one thing with something you fear, you need to learn how to have safe contact with it. Or hypnosis." 

Emmy knew about that. One thing she always remembered from her introductory Psych class was: Neurons that fire together, get wired together. Looking down at his arm, she checked the time and sighed, "Dude, I wish we could stay here, but I have an appointment I just made with a therapist today."

 

Genevieve Mantis’ practice was on the third floor of a retro looking building, white with wide, brown panels that bordered the corners. The inside, however, was a different story. Frosted, green, glass panels, cream walls with cherry wood accents and paintings of scenery. It looked to Emmy like the office of a posh modern detective or a plastic surgeon. 

“I’ll be right here,” James said, sitting near a table of various magazines and opening up one with a forest and a road weaving through it. 

Emmy turned and approached a Beta clerk, assuming she was who she spoke to just that morning. Thin, with strawberry blonde hair, pale skin waited for Emmy to approach. After she gathered her basic information from her ID, Emmy was asked to round the corner to the attendant at the window. Hearing her finally speak, Emmy knew it wasn't the clerk from the phone. Around the corner, the clerk had dark, long, curly, hair and was almost frowning. She typed something on the screen and poked at a button that lit up when pressed with ‘Mantis’ written on it. There were two other buttons on one side and one on the other. 

The clerk pointed out from the window, “Have a seat, she’ll be right out in minute,” and then actually smiled at Emmy. Still, her voice was still not of the person she spoke to earlier. She noticed more desks empty on the other side of the office. Maybe it was lunch time for everyone. Emmy sat down near the door, still able to see the clerk through the glass and the rest of the office, noticing a hardcover book with a glossy cover on top of the shelves on the wall of files. 

Emmy soon smelled something soft and sweet before she heard footsteps pad along the floor near the door. 

“OK, Emmy. Are we set?” Mantis was thin, with almond eyes and a heart shaped face framed by long, straight black hair. When she spoke, there was a slight lilt to her voice that Emmy couldn’t place. But assuming from all the attendant's name pronunciation, she assumed it was some sort of French accent.

Going through the hall, Emmy could smell something like noodles and orange chicken. And that made her want to get Chinese food later. Hopefully, James would want Chinese food later, too. As she followed, it made Emmy think. The only way she was able to see Emmy now was because Mantis must have shortened her own lunch break.

The room was warmly lit by a lamp in the corner. Strong enough to illuminate the room fully, but soft like firelight. The smell was stronger here, along with the sweetness she caught hints of vanilla, which Emmy identified as marshmallows. Immediately, she felt her shoulders relax and like she could tell this new therapist anything. Near the lamp, there was also a burbling sound from a small water fountain with an orange glowing orb being spun by the push of the water. 

Mantis shut the door and walked back. “Have a seat.” She gestured over and sat down across from Emmy, instead of at her desk like Banner. Granted, there were actually other chairs and a table here besides the spinny chair and the requisite couch. Sitting across from her this way, made her feel like she would be more heard. When Emmy sat, she found the couch was firm but plush.

As Emmy looked around, she realized she hadn’t felt uncomfortably hot in a long while and wasn’t sure when it really stopped. A pang of guilt struck her since she had told them she was in her pre-heat and not it magically vanished, like she lied to be squeezed in like this. She sighed, “I need to tell you something.”

“I’m listening,” Mantis said, with a thoughtful smile, like she'd never judge anything she had to tell her. Emmy noticed too, that the way Mantis spoke and moved raised all these protective instincts within her, even when it was she who had control in this situation.

“I was feeling hot this morning. And I had to drink water and everything and then…” She thought of the conversation she had with James. “Then I don’t know, I feel better now. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t lying, I swear.”

Mantis held her hands up, gesturing down at Emmy as if she were a rearing horse. “I believe you. It’s more common than you would think. But it was just safer to take you in as soon as I could. I already knew it was a possibility.”

Emmy's mouth hung open, surprised. 

“Now, I know I don’t know much about you, but I’ll try to answer what can.” She peered over Emmy on the wall. Emmy glanced behind her, looking up to see a clock mounted in the corner. To keep track of their session. “I understand you are true mates so suppressants won’t have any effect on your eventual heats and ruts.”

Emmy nodded. Having it all recited back to her like that made it seem realer and unreal at the same time. “I suggested we date because I decided I would help him through his rut.”

Mantis sat back in her chair, frowning before reaching over to grab a pad of paper from her desk and jotting some things down. “And did he suggest this to you first, at all?”

Emmy thought suddenly unsure. She ran her hand through her hair. “No, no. He suggested he go do his whole thing in the hospital. And I could go to a center here.”

Mantis nodded, writing, and looking back at Emmy to speak, “And what brought you to the conclusion that you spend his rut with him?”

“I really need to know what he would do, as opposed to what I keep thinking he might do.” But this was old news. The only thing that needed to catch up was her body.

“I see,” she sighed. “And how do you feel about spending your heat with him?” 

Emmy shook her head, shrugging. “I was hoping it would just not come for a while. That’s why I panicked this morning.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled on the sleeve of her shirt.

“Emmy, you do know that true mate’s cycles sync, right?”

She stared at Mantis with big eyes, mouth agape.

“There was a journal last month that talked about it. Most studies don’t study true mates. Society so far hasn’t taken to account Omegas who’ve been abused and therefore might not be amenable to such a quick coupling, I’m sorry to say.”

“So me feeling warm this morning—”

“That could be more than just your body about to gear up for your next heat. It could also be psychosomatic, meaning—”

“Induced by stress, etc. I wanted to study psych, until things happened,” Emmy said, throwing her hand out in the air with a shrug. There were no real alternatives if she ever wanted to take it back. She could end up in the hospital, otherwise. Wanting to and now knowing she had practically no choice, were two different animals.

That made Mantis grin, “So I don’t need to explain any of the basics then?”

Emmy shook her head emphatically, “No siree bob!” She rubbed her fingers, thinking on what to say next. “So that’s it? It’s just, after two weeks. He and I will, you know?”

“It’s so soon. I’m not barring you from doing anything. Physically speaking, I would highly recommend it. But in your case… How long have you been with him? A week?”

Emmy chuckled, it was ridiculous to hear out loud, “Basically.”

“With the right partner, Emmy, it could be very healing for a survivor.”

Emmy sat back in her seat, nodding dumbly. 'Survivor.' She hadn’t really survived anything perilous enough to warrant that title though. Just years living a basically pampered life in exchange for use of her body. And it was her boyfriend. She hadn’t been kidnapped or tortured. And it wasn’t war. James, all those serving overseas. They were the real survivors.

“Hmm, I take it you don’t like that word?”

“It’s not appropriate for me.”

“If you were in Aldermont, if you needed to be referred here. You’ve been through enough trauma to call yourself a survivor.”

Emmy grimaced, ground her teeth together, and crossed her arms.

“But I won’t press the issue.” She set down her pad and pen on the table between them. “You know your mate. It is soon, but it could turn out to be one of the most beneficial things you could do for yourself.” Laying out her hand, reaching across the table, Mantis looked right in Emmy’s eyes, “Honesty is your best bet. It’s going to be difficult at first. It also may be difficult always, but it’s one of the best tools you have, especially if they wish to help you. You made it through the toughest part. You're here. I know your choices are limited, but I still think you will be better for it. Do you have anymore questions? Sorry to say, but we're at the end of our short session.”

Emmy couldn't remember anything else she needed to ask until she stood, "Are there any things we can do to help me? I want to be touched more and do there things but my brain just won't stop."

Mantis nodded and leaned over on her desk to type something on her computer. "I am going to send them instructions for your next appointments. And sheets for exercises for you and your Alpha. We can go over more things next Monday. Your homework over the weekend is to do one of the exercises. OK?"

Emmy nodded and left her office.

Afterward, she got her packet from the window clerk and sat next to James to fill the whole thing out. 

“How was it?” he asked, clasping his hand on hers.

Emmy smiled, “Good. I like her.” She was trying to not think about the news that Mantis just let loose on her. Then when she returned the packet, she was given another to keep with further advice on mating cycles/sex with true mates, photocopied from a magazine, and a listing of Urgent Care centers that provided birth control implants that she needed to get at least 7 days before the start of the cycles. 

 

Back at home, she and James ordered sushi. She’d changed her mind as soon as James mentioned Japanese food. They flipped through channels until James stopped on Futurama. They watched a bit, but Emmy had to talk to him about everything she and Mantis discussed, as well as her assignment. 

“Dude, I need to tell you something.”

James faced Emmy, “Yeah?”

“My therapist told me something important. She said that true mate cycles sync. Immediately. So…” She leaned on her side on the couch, laying her cheek on her hand. "I thought it started earlier today. I was really hot."

He smirked, eyebrows up, "You took your shirt off in bed earlier."

Emmy groaned, embarrassed. Looking over, she took a chopstick wrapper and folded it and unfolded it over and over in different ways. "It was just a false alarm."

He reached over and Emmy thought for a second he might take it away from her, but he just patted the side of her knee. "This will be better."

"But it won't be my choice. I know I said I would. But I don't want to feel that come over my body. Not now. Not for a while. I'm not ready. I don't want it."

"Your pain receptors won't be on during a heat. I was worried before, because of..."

"Yeah, yeah!" Emmy shook her head. She didn't want to hear him say it. Still she was afraid, her slick wasn't enough. She was still expecting him to hurt her whether he wanted to or not. Still she was afraid of that too. And then there was that piece of her that wanted it for some reason. "I don't want to feel that out of control, James. I don't want to 'want' like that..." Days and days of aching for a knot. Wanting Brock and even Pierce, even if it felt like they were tearing into her. The first few times, she saw blood on the sheets. When the time came around again, it was like her body didn't remember the pain. What sort of evil was that?

"I'm going to take care of you. I promise," he said, holding her hands together.

"I know that."

He looked over his shoulder, "Maybe one of the exercises will help us."

She looked over at him, the growing stubble on his chin. He let go of her hands and she threw the chopstick wrapper on the table. She wanted to scratch his chin, feel the line of his jaw and the cleft of his chin. When she put her hand down to brace herself, her hand landed on his knee. Big, hard. If she moved her hand higher... "No." She lifted herself up and straddled him. "I've been wanting to do this since this morning," she smiled.

His mouth hung open, but his arms tightened around her and planted a kiss on her lips. It wasn't enough for Emmy. She returned in kind, opening her mouth a little, enough to let him know it was alright to come in. He opened her mouth fully with his and tasted her, hand running up under the back of her shirt. She huffed and pulled off her bra through her shirt. One of his hands explored her back, while the other pressed on her belly moving up and around, excruciatingly slow. Finally, his big warm hand cupped her breast, massaging them. Whenever her brain wanted to remind her what Brock used to do, she blinked and it worked to clear her head. For the most part.

She lifted his shirt up and was careful with his shoulder, as they pulled it off together. "You know, earlier? You had way too many clothes on. And you still do." Her ears detected a soft growl. He lifted her up and expected him to flip her onto her back, but he cupped under her and pulled her away from him. "Aww, what?" She looked down, noticing the bulge in his pants, knowing she absolutely needed to deal with it now. Her breath quickened.

He stroked her hair, "You good?"

Terror tingled cold around on her shoulders and down her back. She could feel tears simmering in her throat, but she was determined to feel OK. She grinned and nodded, but the look was empty. "Fine," her voice broke. 

"That's why I pulled you back."

She nodded. It should be OK to feel your mate's erection. It was normal. But her body was on red alert. She just needed to tough this out. Neurons. Wires.

He held her head, trying to look her in the eye but she wouldn't let him.

The flood gates broke and everything her brain tried to show her, she saw and felt now. "I'm sorry. I want to," she didn't know what it was, but she was warm now. "What if we keep kissing?" She looked down again and started to panic, breathing quick, looking everywhere but at him.

He pulled her off of him, partially leaning over her on the couch. Instinctively, she pushed his hands away. "Oh god! No, please! I don't want to." She pulled her knees up and covered her neck with her hands. Somewhere in her head, she thought it was funny she was doing a duck and cover. A blanket was spread on top of her and tucked in. A breath left her, the alarms stopped blaring, but her body was still on high alert. She looked over at him, and found he was watching her with a straight face and turned her head back to the couch. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I was trying to fix it." He rubbed somewhere near the side of her thigh.

"It's alright, it doesn't happen immediately and I can attest to that," he said, but he wasn't looking at her. She fought the urge to wrap her arms around him. She didn't want to touch him right this second. But her mind was telling her she had to make him feel better. Her arm twitched. In her head, she wondered if she should at least offer to her mouth to take care of him. She watched him sitting there waiting for him to say something more, but he was quiet. "Are you uncomfortable right now?"

"I'm more worried about you." He patted her through the blanket again, chewing on a few of his fingers on his other hand.

"No, you're umm... You're... If you give me a second to calm down, I can take care of that for you," she nodded over to him, "I can help you," she smiled, "with that." Fear was pressing out of her chest as soon as she said the words.

His eyes narrowed, "How could I ask you to do that?"

Emmy knew he would never touch her without her asking. But her brain was adamant that while his dick was up, she would not be safe. It was telling her it was her fault he was hard and she had to take care of it, or else he might once she fell asleep. No matter how much she went over all the good things James' had done with her and for her, her worries raged in her head, finally wracking her body in spasms.

He stood. "The last time this happened you had me hug you..."

Emmy shook her head up and down and reached up for him. He remembered. Eventually, she convulsed less and less in his arms, before finally, tears welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. That's when he held her even tighter, kissing the side of her head. She rubbed her tears on his shirt. He stroked her hair and some of it got caught in his fingers, making them both laugh.

"Hold on," he said, digging in her hair and carefully pulling out a bobby pin. It had been there since last night.

"How did I miss that?" She took it from him and put it on the table.

"Ready to clean up and get ready for bed?" James asked.

He was right, but she still needed something else. Right now, she still wasn't completely better. Hopefully he was not put off by touching her.

He took out the trash for the night, while Emmy cleared the table, running a damp cloth on it to get all of the unseen crumbs and sauces off. They came back together and brushed their teeth together and went to their rooms to change for bed. Emmy went back to his room after he was done. As soon as they were in bed together, James grabbed her to him. "Earlier, it broke my heart to see you like that."

It was still in her head and it must have been registering on her face, even in the dark, because James was staring at her curiously. "You're thinking something."

She breathed through the lump in her sternum, "I keep thinking about apologizing, by giving you a blow job."

Maybe it was something else, but all she saw on his face was pity. "Em."

"It's not you, but my brain keeps letting me see these images and telling me to do things."

"Why?"

"I don't know. But it's all horrible stuff. Not horrible per se. Just..."

"Then tell me... Remember. We're supposed to be honest."

"I made you hard. So I should take care of you, even if I don't want to." She let out a breath. "Sometimes, I keep thinking I want you to hurt me."

"Do you know why you think that?"

"That's one of the only things I know. Even my dad, he was always mad. His anger was one of the worse things, worse than the belt because that wasn't all the time." She peered up at him, "Did your parents ever hit you?" He looked like a deer in the headlights. Quickly, she put a finger to his lips. "OK, you don't have to answer that. But you think we could continue what we were doing before on the couch?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"I know what could happen. I'll be better prepared for it."

James grumbled, so Emmy hummed near his ear, dotting kisses on his neck. "Please? How about some good old-fashioned, high school making out?"

She ran her hand all over his jaw, pressing a finger briefly in his chin. James chuckled, "I don't remember doing this in high school."

Bopping his nose, she ruffled his hair. "You didn't know me." His scent filled the air, making Emmy moan. "You smell go good." She kissed his nose and his cheeks. 

He pecked all along her jaw. She lifted off of him and pulled her shirt off. "You too. Off with your shirt!" Her hands pulled his shirt, doing the same as before.

"I like that you're so careful with my arm."

Before she said it, the words hit her, "I don't want to hurt you."

It took them a while before he eventually settled between her legs. She put her hand on his cheek, "It's OK. I'll tell you if I'm not. I want high school," For a while they kissed like that. His hands cupping her breasts, before his mouth explored her body. Here and there his lips skimmed her wrists or her neck and she was self conscious about the bites. She kept pushing the feeling of him biting her away from her mind. Then her hands roved down to his ass to pulled him forward. He was on her again, and she could feel him growing hard on her thigh.

"I need to get used to this. I want to get used to this."

She felt his body tense, "I don't want to see you look at me like that ever again. But I know that might not be possible."

"You think I can see it? See you?" she gulped, eyes down to where her hand nearly reached between his legs.

"That's definitely not high school making out." He hesitated for a moment. Then he got up beside the bed, pulling down his pants and pushing his underwear past his thighs. She looked at the rectangle of pink skin that spanned the better part of his thigh, the donor site for his arm, keeping from looking directly at his penis at first before slowly moving her eyes over. She saw at the base of it, loose skin where his knot would grow. "Can I touch it?" 

"Go ahead." His voice, thicker now. When he answered, Emmy watched it bob up. The skin was soft, while the rest of it was firm and warm. It only took a few seconds of her hand exploring him, before he was at full attention. She wracked her brain, trying to remember if Brock was smaller or bigger or about the same because she was going to have to take it all in order for it to work. She swallowed. "OK," James said, looking off to the side, before pulling his underwear, his penis still peaking over the waistband and getting his pants up too.

"Are you gonna be OK like that?" Emmy asked, reaching out to him.

"Fine," he smiled, getting back in bed. Emmy kept her hand out and made sure he spooned her even if he was grinding into her from behind. He kept apart from her for a while before, they lay flush together. She took his arm up to scent his wrist knowing she needed to smell him while they slept, just in case her mind was tempted to go crazy while they slept.

Emmy couldn't make out the dreams she had that night, nothing bad. But she did hear "If I Didn't Care" all throughout it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently doing some work stuff, so the next update might take a while. See you soon! :D


	15. Take Back Home Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be some stuff happenin' in this chapter. Yee-haw! Some of it will be bad though. Still a tendency towards the unhealthy. So triggers here. More at the end. But, there will be sweetness too.

Emmy didn’t think twice when the phone rang. So when Mrs. Barnes turned out to be at the end of the line, Emmy hustled James over to take over for her. But it had been done. His mother knew a woman had picked up the phone at her "single" son’s house. They both knew it was time to come out with whatever they were, and to come up with something more palatable for his parents in the mean time. After a short time getting ready and minimal prepping, they were on the way out so he could help his father with the old oaks out in their backyard, a yearly thing.

James had gotten on an app to rent a big truck as soon as he got off the phone with his mother. They were only on the curb a short while before a bright red Titan parked beside them, the owner giving them a tired, but cheery smile. He handed the keys to James and told him to have it back by 10am tomorrow morning in his driveway, the latest. A car parked across the street, engine idling, before the driver got in and went on his way.

Emmy walked around the massive vehicle, whistling, “You really need this big ol’ thing?” 

“Depends on the yard waste size. Overkill is better since I can’t gauge how many branches we’ll need to haul to the drop-off,” James said, opening the passenger side, holding his hand out just in case Emmy needed help onto her seat. But she hauled herself in, clutching the headrest of the seat and taking as long a step she could inside. She buckled in and waited for James to get inside. This would be her first time riding in a car with him driving. Was he a fast driver? Patient? James put on his seatbelt and turned the engine on. 

Emmy raised her eyes at him, with a sly grin, “Meeting the parents already?”

“I know. What else is could happen?” he chuckled, shaking his head, before pulling into traffic.

“So what do we tell your mom? Your parents? Something simple, but not the not-great parts.” She wanted to say 'ugly.' 

James shrugged, focusing on the road. “We’ll say we’re together one month now. Met at a Brahm's,” he said, glancing over. "Simple."

“I just moved here. And we’re neighbors. I live just two blocks away. My parents are helping with rent and I live with two other Omegas.” She let out a long breath knowing she might have to talk about Pepper and Lilah. A thought niggled in her head now, as it had every so often since she escaped the house; Emmy should have died back there with them. Looking over at his hands on the steering wheel, Emmy wished he didn’t use them both. Holding his hand would steady her nerves and thoughts. She’d never met any parents before. Brock only talked about doing it one day, when they first started. But being they were going to his home, she as his girlfriend, no doubt would his mother have things to tell and show her. Emmy bit her lips together, trying not to smile, already imagining the baby pictures or embarrassing stories she’d hear. Today, she’d be just like anyone else and not have to think about her past. That was the hope.

When they turned into the street Emmy already had her eye on two houses across from each other, one, white, with blue shutters, two floors high. The other a single floor with an attic, white, with a red door. Audis in both driveways. From what Emmy saw, both Becca and her husband were home. Why hadn’t James' father asked for the husband’s help? 

Emmy clenched her jaw as they turned into the driveway a bit askew, just about over the sidewalk. James maneuvered the truck around, reversing back into the driveway expertly. It was pretty hot. She turned to open her door before James touched her shoulder making Emmy jump.

He smiled at her, eyes knitting in concern, “You OK?” He skimmed a finger along her taut jaw. 

She slackened immediately at his coaxing. “Just nervous. I haven’t done this like, ever,” she sighed, wanting to ask him if he’d done it before. Of course he had, he must have. He seemed like the type to always have a girlfriend. Too kind, too handsome. 

James hopped out quickly and opened her door for her. He gave her a nervous look, “My mother’ll have my neck if I don’t open the door for you.” 

“But you do open the door for me,” she said, taking his hand this time and hopped down, making sure her knees bent enough. He took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. If only they could stay like this all the way until the end. When they got to the stoop, she expected him to ring the doorbell. Instead, he fished keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door himself using his free hand. Why wouldn't he have keys? Emmy turned the knob for him and they walked inside. 

The house was comfortably lit by the sun, shutters open here and there, one or two windows cracked some to let in fresher air, but not enough to cool the warmth inside. Shiny wood floors in every room and the same fluffy couches James had, but everything was tidier. Cozy without being cramped, just wide enough for good movement for a big family. It smelled like apples and sweet grass, a collection of family scents and the happiness they had here. It made her jealous to remember the sharper scents of her own home. 

“Mom?” They walked though the living room, passed the stairs where an understated antique chandelier hung, and walked to the kitchen. "Mom. It's me and..." They heard footsteps rush down the stairs. Both turned just in time to see a woman with lush, wavy hair, hanging over her shoulders coming down to meet them in a light grey sweater and dark jeans. James got most of his looks from her, Emmy could see. But his eyes were a different shape.

Mrs. Barnes grinned, eyes alight, moving right onto Emmy with a tight hug, “Hello, hello. Make yourselves at home.” Her eyes flitted over to James, “Except for you, Jim. Your father’s already out back. Hurry, so you can make it to lunch. And change your clothes first. It’s cold outside.” When she turned back to Emmy, she was all softness again. “I’m Winifred Barnes. Are you hungry?”

They looked up a moment as James leapt up the stairs, three steps at a time. Him and his stupid long legs.

“I’m Emilia,” she smiled, offering her hand. Would it be weird to go right into questions about her son? Probably. “I could go for a snack?” Mrs. Barnes didn't see her hand, and instead huddled her close as she led her to the living area.

Emmy sat on the sofa as Mrs. Barnes brought her coffee and cream and sugar to do herself, then setting off to make Emmy a simple ham sandwich. She returned with two sandwiches, one for each of them, with Mrs. Barnes tucking a piece of lettuce and a swipe of brown mustard.

“Did you want to watch TV, the boys will be a while? But it won’t take too long. If you like, you two can stay for dinner,” Mrs. Barnes asked, with expectant, big, brown eyes. 

Emmy wondered what James wanted and didn’t want to make decisions without him. She shook her head, “I”m not sure.”

Mrs. Barnes wobbled her head, taking a sip of coffee. “OK, so you're thinking about it," she said, giving her a look that made Emmy just want to say yes. "So, how did you two meet?”

It was time to fairytale up their relationship, she'd tell him the deets later. “We met at the bookstore by our house. He bumped into me in the aisle and kinda did a double-take after he apologized.“ She ducked her head down bashfully for effect, a small smile on her lips. “He asked me out for coffee and that’s how it all started.” Emmy studied his mother's face. They used real details. But mothers were hard. They just knew truths from lies. For now, nothing in Mrs. Barnes demeanor told her she wasn’t convincing enough. 

“And he didn't show you his book?” Mrs. Barnes took a bite of her sandwich, hand under to catch the crumbs. 

Emmy grinned, unable to keep her excitement down, “Actually, I was looking forward to getting to know a little more about your son. He doesn’t have baby pictures. I..." She registered what was actually said. "Book? Like, a baby book?” Emmy said, squinting at her.

Mrs. Barnes shook her head, “Lord no. The book he wrote.” 

Emmy made a face that immediately made her flat-out guffaw. It felt good.

She pulled Emmy right up the stairs and into a room with more of Steve’s sketches, more urban scenes, more New York. There was a wooden desk and chair set, stacks of books and papers stuffed in them. A twin bed in the corner with dark blue plaid sheets, a drawer on one side of the room, the mirrored closet open just a smidge. Mrs. Barnes knelt down to fetch two boxes from under the bed. “There.” She produced a crisp, white, hardcover book and handed it to Emmy. It featured a small trail of military vehicles in the center of the book on their way through a desert terrain under the title: "Out of the Fire."

Emmy turned to the back cover first to check the author’s profile. Some author's pictures were fun. When she looked at it it was certainly James, same cheery eyes, lips, and everything except with short cropped hair under a military beret. But this man was built like a truck. This was James squared and in a dressy Ranger uniform. Emmy’s mouth hung open. 

“Needless to say Jim used to work out a lot back then. A lot of time out there.”

Goddamn, he did. Emmy nodded, turning to the beginning of the book. Flipping through the pages.

“That’s for you to keep. But I have more stuff for you to see.” And opened an old album, the vinyl and plastic singing with static, the spine cracking. Old pictures from the early 90’s.Big, loud shirts, and backwards caps. Then James in a suit and tie, an old timey outfit, most likely from a school play, a bunny outfit, and him as a pumpkin for what looked like his first Halloween. There were albums and albums of him at Yankee Stadium and at a Knicks game as a young teen. Towards the end, there were pictures of James with a blonde kid of the same age, or younger since he was so much skinnier and shorter than James.

“So, is that the artist of all James’ sketches. Is that Steve?”

“My god, that boy…. ” she chuckled, shaking her head. "Didn't you get a chance to meet him yet? The send-off," she narrowed her eyes at Emmy, more curious than anything.

Emmy froze for a fraction of a second, what send-off? “Oh, I had study group and a test that Monday. So, I couldn't go." 

She nodded her head, which made Emmy think that was a good enough reason.

"James told me how he and Steve became friends.” She looked back at the album, turning the page to catch a girl with red, curly hair and James on a sofa together. It looked like another home, NY probably. Her stomach tightened seeing him in in the next photo in a tux and her in a beautiful cerulean dress, a white corsage on her light-skinned wrist. Immediately, she thought of them having sex, possibly for the first time. Her chest grew hot and she cleared her throat. Emmy shut the album. “Could I have some water?”

Mrs. Barnes left. Emmy couldn’t resist looking at the very last pages. James in an ROTC uniform. No more pictures of the redhead and lastly, him in uniform with the rest of his family outside what Emmy assumed was their New York brownstone. 

When she came back, Emmy took a sip and Mrs. Barnes offered to show her a few VHS tapes of James singing in a bunny musical play, and some other ones in high school with him dancing in the background. There was one they didn’t get to. Dorothy/James Dance Contest ’03. His mother stacked the other already-seen tapes on top of it. Emmy didn't push.

James hauled the smaller bundles of branches himself onto the back of the truck. For the other’s he and his father carried them together through the side of the house. “Isn’t Bobby home?” he asked, looking across the street, at Becca's. They looked home.

“Your brother-in-law is always just across the way. It’s just an excuse to get you here.”

“I visit—”

“Not near enough. Kimberly and Scott are about to graduate.” They secured the other branches together and shut the back of the truck.

James walked around and got in the passenger side, yelling back, "I’ll be there. I’m only a few miles away.” 

Dad nodded up at his son and popped in to tell them that they were gonna head out and come back for lunch. James saw something more in his father’s eyes, questions. 

“Dad, what’s up?” He turned the door nub between his fingers, eventually pulling it up, before pushing it back into a locked position.

“God, Bucky, you’re just like your mother,” he turned into the highway, glancing over at James for a second. “The girl, is it serious?”

He screwed his face, “Dad, she’s here, isn’t she?”

“Don’t get smart with me.” He set his arm to rest on the door and drove one-handed down a gravel road now. “I think it’s time you brought home some extra protection.”

James thought about it before he ever went to Portland, but bringing it back didn’t sit right with him. “I don’t need it.”

“Take it. Just in case, son”

“Dad, I won’t. Maybe later, but not now.”

“You planning on living with her sometime?”

James hoped to god his father didn’t notice him swallow hard at that question. “Not any time soon.”

“Do it before then, you hear? You bought that SIG for a reason. Put it to good use.”

He clenched his jaw and stared out the window, seriously considering it. But he’d bought it when he was younger and thought about selling it back just this year, before that e-mail. But he didn’t need a gun in his house. When they got back, he’d ask Emmy how comfortable she felt with a gun in their home. She might even feel better with one there for all he knew. He wasn't gonna decide without asking her first.

Back at home, Mr. Barnes went up to shower and change for lunch. James came back to the kitchen and a bowl of potatoes. He grinned at Emmy wanting to give her a peck on the cheek, but refrained from doing so with his mother in the same room. “Having fun here?” He almost called her “babe” but they’d never really done that. It was just to keep up pretenses. But they weren't really pretenses. They just came together weird.

“Care to join us?” Emmy smiled, picking though herbs in a bowl. 

He chuckled and sat in front of a bowl of new potatoes, a peeler and a plastic bag, all ready for him. “I’m pretty sure this is for me.” He wanted to move everything to sit closer to Emmy, thought better on it, but did it anyway. There had to be something to make his mom go outside for just a second so he could give Emmy a proper hello. Seeing her in his house, cooking with his mother made him wish they were home alone instead. He knew she might not be up for it. And he was ready for it, but that didn’t stop his brain from thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her, to show how much he appreciated her in his life. He just fully saw it in this moment. Fitting in, right off the bat. Emmy sorted out rosemary, sage, thyme, chopping the herbs. Once he was done with skinning potatoes, his mother took the bag of peelings and gave him a cutting board. After he’d cut the potatoes, he did the carrots and was promptly sent to shower and change again. 

After a lunch or roast potatoes, carrots and porkchops, James told his parents that he wanted to show Emmy the backyard. It was finally a chance to talk alone. “Em, do you feel safe at the house?” They came up on a rosemary bush, purple flowers sprouted all over the plant. She didn't even know rosemary plants bloomed. Nothing weird had happened at home. Nothing on the news. Brock and the others were most certainly out of the country. She hoped they were dead and the outlets were all just about to announce it. “For the most part, yeah.”

James cleared his throat, “And if I brought a gun back with us?”

Emmy frowned. “You have a gun?!” she asked, a little too loud.

“I bought it a long time ago. It’s here for safe-keeping for when I'm overseas. My dad wants me to bring it back for protection because of you.”

She looked up at him, wide eyes. His dad was thinking of her protection. “Do you think we should?” On one hand, it would be better to have one. Especially since he knew how to use one. But it was unsettling to have that in their home. Like they were expecting something to happen almost. 

“I want to know what you want. I don’t think we need it. Maybe later. But not today.”

“Then, no." Emmy shook her head. "I’ll feel weird with it there.”

“Then, we won’t,” he gave her a smile, and reached for her hand.

Emmy leaned in, pulling James to her and gave him a peck on the cheek. James smirked, looking around and pulled her up for a deeper kiss, warming Emmy’s cheeks.

“Your mom wants to know if we can stay for dinner.”

He pulled back, hooded eyes, “We can stay for dinner.”

Emmy wrapped her hands around his waist, “I was thinking we could hurry back, now.” She rubbed her hands up and down his back, giving him a look she hoped told him exactly what she wanted. No other feelings surged within her now, no fear, no intrusive thoughts. She just wanted him with her. 

They cooled off a little, walking around the backyard before going back in, telling them both that they had to take care of something and would be back for dinner the next week, hoping for a get-together with everyone so they could all meet Emmy. His parents weren’t stupid, they’d been at this stage in their relationship too. They let them go. His father didn't mention the gun.

On the way back, James stopped at a CVS. When he left her, Emmy felt nervous again hoping she’d feel right again once he got back. Something thickened in her throat. Was she ready to do this? She lay back in her seat telling herself all the good things James was, reminding herself he was patient and that he’d repeatedly said he didn’t want to hurt her. All those times he could have fucked her, but didn’t. The soft kisses and touches. She knew in her bones she had nothing to worry about but the longer she sat there alone, the stronger her worries got. He soon opened the door and tossed a plastic bag in the backseat with a box in it. There were special condoms for Alphas with knots, stronger and more durable to potential breakage. She smiled, arm twitching while resting on the door. She wanted to chew her thumbnail. Soon she’d have his knot in her. Already, she could feel it stretching her. Would it hurt with him? How long would they stay like that? An hour at the most, with him stuck inside of her. Her unable to move away from his heavy body. To calm herself, she focused on soft breaths and the good thoughts. James took her hand in his. Emmy tried hard not to shake, she felt cold, maybe. She tensed her limbs, as they parked by the house. Outside, Emmy was smiling. Like if she faked it all, she’d stop being terrified. 

Once inside, James locked the door and grabbed the box of special condoms. She hadn’t gotten her implant yet. They had to do it soon. He wrapped his arms around her from behind. Hadn’t she told him that she didn’t want him to do that? Did he forget or did he just not care? She couldn’t stop the anger in her words, “I’d told you I don’t like that!” she whirled around, breathing hard. 

He took a step back, hands up, “I’m sorry, Em. I got carried away.”

She gave a haggard smile. Not again. Her face softened, walking into his arms again. “No, no. I’m just nervous. Sorry, I snapped.”

“You know we don’t have to—”

She put a finger on his lips. “I want to. I really do. I just need help.” She leaned back in his arms. "I saw your old picture in the book you wrote?"

James looked away. "And?"

"You looked good then? And you look good now.” She pulled down the straps of her bra, before unhooking it, throwing it across the room.

They hadn’t really done any exercises. Last night, they did try something. But she wanted to know how good he would feel inside her. They came together, walking into his room, all the while peeling off each other’s clothes, panting, until they were in nothing but their underwear. Emmy started to shake, cold and nervous. Alpha arousal spiking the air. He put his hands on her shoulders rubbing them up and down. She pulled him to her by his waist, shaking more noticeably. “I’m OK,” she said and reassured him with a smile. He tucked her hair behind her ears and brought their lips together. They took turns licking and working on the other’s neck. James dragging his mouth all over her chest, coming close to the swell of her breasts but keeping away, walking them back to lay on his bed. Emmy’s body tensed with his weight on hers, but he was off her, on his side in an instant. His fingers followed the same path his mouth did. Making Emmy squirm, wanting to feel his warmth on her, feel his hot hands exploring her body fully. 

“Touch me,” she reached out, tracing her hands all over his back and chest, touching everything. That’s when James leaned in again, finally palming her breast. 

“Is that what you want?” he arched a brow. 

Emmy nodded, “I want your mouth on me.”

At that, he trailed his tongue between the valley of her breasts, sucking here and there cupping his hands on her chest, gently massaging her before sucking in a nipple. She could feel warmth spread between her legs, the slick coming though. The air was sweeter now and knew he could smell it when he let out a low growl and clutched at her arms before winding down her body, hands clasped with hers before he began to drag his mouth around her hips. He pulled away so he could push her legs far enough to leave space for his head to dip down. There was still the matter of her underwear.

It made Emmy nervous having him so close to her there. James certainly looked comfortable, but it was embarrassing all the same. That’s when she felt his eyes look up at her, hands on her thighs. This was supposed to feel good. It had. Before, it came at a price like with all things. But for James, she nodded, waiting as he peeled off her bottoms. She opened her legs wider for him, feeling the cool air on her. He lowered his head. She felt his warm breath right before he kissed around her entrance, circling closer and closer, finally landing on her lower lips, skimming over them before sucking them in, making her groan. He raked his tongue over her, before pushing between her slit, dipping his tongue into her, the sensation canting her hips up, making her toes curl. Emmy gasped at the soft intrusion, the burst of sensation. “Sorry.” God, she wanted more.

“T’s fine. That’s good.” From this angle, she could only see his eyes. James thumbed at her entrance, looking up at her, asking for permission again. She steeled herself and gave him a short nod. Instead of his thumb, though, he pushed in a different finger, sawing in and out of her. It felt weird and nice, but it wasn’t thick enough. She wasn’t used to anything small like that inside of her and nudged her knee up, nodding up to tell him she wanted more than that. He obliged with two fingers, his mouth sucking her lips together before flitting up to her nub, a cascade of pleasure surged out to her limbs, making her body twist and moan. “You like that?” She could hear the laugh in his voice, but she’d shut her eyes.

“Yes, please.” Did she answer him correctly? He went deeper with his fingers. It didn’t scare her, so it was good. He worked on her for a while, curling in and out, hitting some spots, but she didn’t want his fingers anymore. She reached down to pull him up.

He gave her a concerned look. “It’s better if I get you to come first,” he said, rising up. 

She looked down at the bulge that already peaked out of his boxer-briefs, tracing each of his imperfectly, proportioned abs with her fingers, finding his thatch of hair that showed just above his underwear before pushing his waistband down. “Whoa…” His length bobbed out. 

“I don’t want your hands anymore,” she knew what he was trying to do, but she doubted she could come that way or at all. It just wasn’t something her body did with an Alpha, but she wanted him inside her. “Please,” she turned him over, pulling the rest of it off tossing it aside. She straddled his thighs, leaning down, meaning to taste him, but stopping just short of his knothead. Precum already glistening just inside the tip. She wondered if she really wanted to do this now. Her mind slipping somewhere just looking at the liquid, already tasting the saltiness of it and then the bitterness of the cool liquid in her mouth.

“Hey,” James said, hands on her shoulders. She smiled blankly, shaking her head. “We can stop.” She shook her head again looking over at the box of condoms, a soft smile on her lips. As he grabbed the box, part of her flew out of her body as she turned over putting her ass in the air, head down. Only coming back when his hands landed on her hips only to turn her on her back. “No, not like that. I want to look at you.”

She nodded and pulled him back for a kiss in an attempt to bring herself fully back into her body, wanting to be here for him. The condom was on now, cold on her thigh. He looked at her, studying her. 

“We can stop, any time.” They could of course, until his knot swelled holding them together. 

“I want to feel you, James. Please?”

He clenched his jaw gave her another kiss before he gave her a wet swipe between her legs just in case she needed more to ease the way. Pulling her up to him, he stacked two pillows behind her, propping her up, before settling between her legs. She half-expected him to hook her legs over his shoulders, but he didn’t. He set the tip just at her entrance, watching her before slowly pushing inside, starting and stopping here and there before he was fully seated inside of her. 

Emmy was fully aware of how fast her heart was beating. She stared up at him not sure what she wanted and looked up high enough that he wasn’t in her line of sight anymore. All she felt was full, stretched too tight right where he came in and knew if he moved it would hurt. James was inside her. An Alpha was inside her. Her breath quickened. She pushed down the sudden need to clutch at something, to move, to get away. Something whimpered in the room. 

He exhaled, giving her a reassuring smile, “Hey, you doing OK?”

If she spoke, if she let out another sound, she’d let it all out. And she didn’t want that for him so held her breath.

”Em?” he moved just enough, making Emmy wince. “Am I hurting you?” 

Her head nodded.

Slowly, James pulled out.

Emmy immediately curled into herself, biting her lips so she wouldn’t make anymore noise. She rocked, and blew out breath after breath, hoping that just for right now, he wouldn’t touch her.

James pulled the cover sheet over her, but did’t speak. In the corner of her eye, she could see him pulling off the condom. Condoms made for Alphas who could knot were especially expensive. It’s one of the reasons implants were so popular. She closed her eyes and imagined going down on him, a payment, before she stopped herself. It took a while, before she turned to look at him. He looked at her with soft eyes. “You OK?”

She bobbed her head, trying to show him she was good but she couldn’t speak for some reason. A part of her wanting to tell him to go slow or to be careful or something. Nothing came out. 

”That was good for a first try.” He sat back on the bed. 

Emmy shook her head, shooting him a look that told him she wanted to give it another shot. “I just needed to know what you feel like. We can try again.”

He looked away. Raising an eyebrow, then reaching over to put another one on. She watched him roll it down his length. It was her first time feeling a condom. It was weird and cold. He roved over her. Plunging his head down again, he dug his tongue deeper into her. She liked that best, but didn’t want his tongue getting tired. If only he could just do that. He let her adjust as he pushed inside, bringing his forehead to rest on hers. The stretch was exactly the same. He was thicker than Brock. Maybe one day, she’d stop thinking about him while she and James were in bed.

“Does it hurt?” he moved around to rest his arms on either side of her more comfortably, but the burn of even that made her stop him. They needed more slick. She had some in her room. But part of her was afraid that even telling him he was hurting her would bring out more body memories.

“Let’s just try. OK?” Emmy pulled him close, hands moving down to tell him to move with one on his back and the other on his ass, his head over on the side. 

“But I can’t see you like this.”

She shook her head. “Just for a little while.”

He reached behind him to laced their fingers together, “You squeeze my hand, OK?”

Emmy nodded. At that, he pulled about halfway out, making Emmy wince, bearing back down, inch by inch. She was trying hard not to squeeze his hand. It was important not to let him know how much he was hurting her. 

“Em, squeeze my hand.” She shook her head, extracting her hand from his and pulling him into her with both her hands on his ass cheeks again. She knew that it would only last a little bit in the beginning, hoping. He just needed to really fuck her through it. 

“Fuck me. Like you want. If I want you to stop, I’ll say,” she curled her fingers, running them over his ears. “I’ll say.” 

“But if I’m hurting you—”

“I said we could really try for a little while. If you go faster, it’ll be better.”

James sighed. She stroked his back with her fingertips, down, down, giving him a playful slap on his ass cheek. He growled. “OK,” his voice thick. “If that’s what you want.” He wrapped his arms around her and sunk all the way inside, making Emmy bite her lips through the burn. Tomorrow they’d use more slick. He pumped himself in two more times before he ratcheted up the pace. It hurt less and less the faster he went before it started to just feel good. Before long, Emmy was peppering kisses on his neck, licking and nipping his earlobes and his good shoulder. Her moans growing louder and louder with his grunts. 

“Can I turn you over?” Emmy nodded, not really thinking about it, knowing he was close. She got into position, forgetting this was a tighter position to fuck in. He plunged inside, making Emmy yip, but he didn’t seem to hear her. Not that Emmy was necessarily making it known either. He dotted kisses up and down her back in a rushed pace before fully fucking into her, hands tight on her hips, making Emmy the least bit nervous. But she didn’t want try to stop him, a part of her telling her it was safer to just let him to exactly as he wanted. A part of her telling her she couldn’t stop it at this point anyway. He slowed enough that she could feel him cleave into her, too aware if his girth before picking up speed again. This time he was moaning along with his grunts. It felt good again, but worry was the only other thing Emmy could feel besides James’ relentless length. He slumped over her, panic springing up. Emmy tried hard to tamp it down. Successful, until he swelled up inside of her. His hand reached between her legs as he pushed in as far as he could until the knot was fully rooted inside of her. She gasped, eyes wide. Feeling Brock again. Feeling Pierce. James. James was inside her and she couldn’t get away from him. She hummed, as he released inside of her, feeling him fill the sheath with his seed. She tensed her arms, so she wasn’t tempted to try to push him away. It wasn’t his fault. She fucked this up. Tears fell from her eyes as they settled on their side, anchored together. 

“Emmy,” he panted, stroking her hair. “Are you OK?” 

She clenched her jaw to keep her sounds in, she didn’t want to make him feel bad. This was her fault, all her fault. He did everything she wanted and asked him to do. It was just her feeling like this. It was only her having sex for the first time because she wanted to. She wanted to. But then she let a hitching breath slip and he knew. He put his fingers on her cheeks to find wetness there.

“It’s OK, James. It’s OK. I just—” She wanted him the fuck out of her. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He leaned his head on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” He pulled his arms away from her, like that’s all she needed.

“James, it’s not your fault. This is just me.” And pulled his arms around her again, waiting until his knot finally came down. In the corner of her eye, she could see him taking care of himself, wiping off as his erection came down, throwing the used condom in the trash. After he pulled out, she held her hand tight between her legs to staunch the throbbing inside her. She looked at her hands once, seeing a bit of blood there. She’d never bled during sex before. Even for her first time. The bed felt empty without James and couldn’t wait for him to come back to hold her. 

“Emmy?”

She turned to see James. He looked sad and tired. “Are you coming back?” 

He canted his head, “Emmy,” shaking it ‘no.’

After all this she needed him with her, desperate to feel his body on hers, like it would fix what just happened. Part of her even wanted him back inside of her. “Please, James. Please,” she said, reaching out. Finally, he obliged after putting on his underwear. When he settled up behind her, he felt around, finding her hand between her legs. But he didn’t ask. “I thought you said you were going to stop me,” he whispered over her shoulder.

“It felt good. It felt so good. And then it was only when you…” He’d wanted her in the classic position. She should have refused. 

He dipped his head down and kissed her shoulder. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”

“It’s not your fault.” She agreed.

“We should have waited.”

“I wanted to try. So…” She dug her head into the mattress.

“Can I see your hand, Emmy?”

She pulled it up, not wanting him to see, knowing it would only make him feel worse. Shiny, thinned out by leftover slick, yet unmistakeable, was a bit of red blood. 

“I can run you a bath. Or we can sleep. It’s your choice.”

“Do you have bubbles?” Emmy asked, sounding happy already.

 

It turned out Becca had one of those three in one shower gels, body wash, shampoo and bubble bath in one. This one smelled like roses. Emmy breathed in deep. James made the water just right, just shy of being too hot, carrying her into the bath and setting towels just in reach on the counter for her. Dunking her head in, she ran her hands all over her body, even moving pinched between her legs, but the warmth was leeching some of the pain away. She was lucky to have James, but she kept fucking things up. She probably made him feel horrible, like he did something bad. That’s all she ever did to him after all he’d done for her. Emmy did not deserve him. She hadn’t even sucked him off earlier. Couldn’t even bring herself to. Wasn’t it fair?

When she was done she wrapped herself up and got on some sleeping clothes before going back to James’ room, walking a little wider, still feeling him inside of her. She prepared to herself to walk normally in the room, but let herself since he wasn’t looking. When he saw her getting in he pulled the blankets up to accommodate her. Emmy saw the sheets now had flowers on them. He’d changed them when she was in the bathroom. She tucked in facing him. “I don’t mean to make you feel bad. You know that right?”

He looked at her, eyes halway closed, but still listening. Leaning over, he kissed her on her forehead. But she still felt like she was doing something wrong. Like one day he’d stop wanting to try. It didn’t matter being true mates. That didn’t automatically make her trauma go away. It didn’t make his arm better, or make him not afraid of fire, or make him OK with sitting in the backseat. All it did was complicate their lives really. 

“You have to know I don’t want to be like this. I want to be good. I want to be normal. You have to know I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’m like this.” Would he still want to have sex with her after this debacle? Could she even come with him one day? Without those terrible thoughts? She chuckled, “I know I’m probably not the best lay.” She remembered the redhead in the photos with him. Dorothy maybe. “Your mom showed me pictures. At the house, of a girl…” Her feelings settled once she saw him smile again, eyes closed now. “I saw a redhead in a picture with you. Senior prom?” 

“Emmy, I’m already asleep. I’m trying really hard to stay awake for you because of what happened, but try as I might, I’m gonna falling asleep soon.”

Her brain was humming with all sorts of questions and worries. She needed him to reassure her.

“Did I make the water too hot?” he asked, opening one eye.

“It was just right. Thank you. The bubbles smelled nice. Your sister has good taste…” With that James let out a breath. She could feel he was wearing pants now, but no shirt. He pulled her tighter to him, nuzzling in her neck to confirm something before he finally settled into sleep, that she smelled as close enough to happy as she could, given the circumstances. Pulling his hand up, she scented his wrist. A shade muted, but not enough to mean he was sad or discouraged in any way. Almost content. She was almost happy. It was good enough for now. 


	16. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't meant to take this long in updating. Whoops.

When Emmy woke there was a familiar weight near her. Sunlight shone through the thick curtains, as a hand reached over her. Brock rolled onto her, all smiles, peppering kisses on her cheeks, her forehead, and her lips. Something in his kisses was different, like he’d gotten lessons or practiced, gentler now. He pulled back, thumbing her chin. She smiled back at her Alpha. It was everything she'd wanted. And it had been so long. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, wrapping his thick arms around her again before she opened her eyes for real. 

Her heart rushed to catch up to a waking rate, thrumming blood out to her limbs. She reached over, feeling the cold empty sheets beside her, frowning. Last night flashed through her mind and when Emmy got up she could still feel what they’d done. At first the memory of the dream had not come through to her. First, it was the smell and the feeling of completeness, of contentment. But her mind was fighting to know how she got there, before the horrific realization. She clenched her jaw, remembering. Hand raking through her hair, trying to figure why in the hell had she had that dream. His scent so thick in her nostrils now, needed that to be replaced. But now, the thought of James touching her made her want to throw up. All the same, Emmy hobbled to the door, only walking straight as she reached the end of the hall. Instinctively, her mind shoved all thoughts aside quickly enough that she couldn’t remember what had bubbled up the next moment. Finally, calm settled over her. Even ignoring the discomfort between her legs. Insisting nothing happened. 

She heard the murmurs of a TV turned way down low, the screen casting flickers of light across the near-dim room. She heard sirens and a familiar clung-clung sound effect. Emmy instantly knew James was watching one of the Law and Orders. She could now make out the voices of Detectives Kendrick and Ward and knew exactly which. OCU, one of her favorites. James’d left the dining room light on behind him. He lay on the couch, a leg long enough to rest on the arm, while the other was planted square on the floor. Emmy stepped lighter, as she approached him. Like she didn’t want to startle him. 

He jerked his face in her direction, “Was the TV too loud?”

Emmy gasped, jumping back for a moment. His voice sudden and too loud somehow. She saw Ward on the screen, shoving a perp against the glass of the interrogation room. 

“D’I scare you?” James sat up.

Emmy smiled, laughing for some reason. “What? No, no. It's fine." Shaking her head. "I love this show!” She sat on one side, tucking her legs, moving slow as she felt his eyes watch her. Could he see how she moved? Did he care? The questions were sudden, burning in her throat. Fury flashed in her mind and ebbed. She wondered if he wanted to have sex with her again. And even glared at him, daring him to touch her. Then the feeling disappeared like a bubble. She turned back to see if she could place this episode. A new ADA with red corkscrew curls met with the detectives. New. The next scene was a trial, so that meant the episode was nearing the end. An Alpha had raped a mated Omega, who was giving his own account on stand, screaming with the new ADA and judge. It didn’t look too good for him. Emmy looked over at James, who sat pin-straight, hands clasped between this knees. Was it her glare? Was it last night? It felt so far away now, almost like she dreamed it. Again her brain urged her, saying none of it had actually happened. “So, you really like watching this show?” she asked. Most Alphas, even her own father, got uncomfortable when that show was on. 

“When I can’t sleep,” he shrugged, eyes seeming to study her for a moment, before he snapped back to watch the screen as the judge banged the gavel, calling order. The Alpha needed to be restrained as the judge revealed their verdict. 

“So, this is relaxing for you?” Emmy asked with a sly smile, then frowned upon realizing what he’d just said. “Wait, you can’t sleep? Are you having—?”

“It happens. Less often now. But…” He shrugged.

Emmy nodded and brought her attention back to the show. “And show makes you sleepy?”

James licked the side of his mouth with a grin. “Not, exactly. But it’s a cathartic show to watch, don’t you think?" On the screen are low growls, and yelling. James shakes his fist once beside him, muttering a "yes." He does a wobbly thing with his head, "And it's off to Sing Sing..." 

Emmy laughs. Every episode did wrap up, unlike other shows that had stories that spanned months, even some storylines that took the whole series to wrap up. “Touché.” She looked over at the TV but let her mind wander. She imagined being in the courtroom watching as a judge sentenced Brock and the other Alphas. The screen blacked out before the title card revealed itself, the voiceover coming on: 

“Crimes against Omegas constitute an egregious amount of felonies in the great city of New York, the detectives who investigate these horrendous acts are a part of an elite squad known as the Omega Crimes Unit. These are their stories.”

clung-clung

Her mind drifted.

"Hey, seriously, we can watching something else if you—”

Emmy grasped at her chest. “Shit!” she panted.

“Are you OK? You're starting really easily—”

She shook her head, as if to right the pieces in her head. "I'm fine."

His eyes scanned her. Emmy gritted her teeth, but kept it in. "Em—" 

“I’m. Fine. James.” It geysered up, “Why do you even... have to ask? You can see I’m OK... CAN’T YOU?!” Her eyes widened, when she caught herself, knowing she was a lot angrier that she should be. Looking away, she swallowed a lump in her throat, guilt swimming around in her for a second. In her mind, she saw his hand come up to backhand her, then shook her head to get rid of the thought. She looked at him quickly, his hands resting near his thighs on the couch, as he now faced her, eyes knit together before understanding replaced confusion. Like this was something he knew.

“Emmy. Talk to me.”

What was there to say? Her body waited, tense, still waiting for his anger. Emmy sighed, a strange thought surfaced growing stronger and stronger in place of any more words in her mouth or mind. Her face warmed while she thought how she could straddle James, make everything go away. But that hadn't worked before. It hadn't worked at all. She was wrong. His hand seemed to reach for her, only grabbing the back of the couch. And then she was up, snapping, “Don’t touch me!” She kept her eyes down. Confused. Waves of the same emotions raked over her. Anger, fear and need. The want to have him inside her, hurting her. She wanted it.

He'd like that. 

He wouldn't.

Hedlikethathewouldntofcoursehewouldnthewouldnt

Shutupbequietshutup

Her eyes watered, still seeing him shove her down, taking her as hard as she knew he could. Her heart rate quickened, eyes looking up into his gaze until she forgot what was in her head. 

“Emmy? Do you know where you are?”

She opened her mouth to speak, clenching her hands, feeling how sweaty and warm she was. His eyes finally registered to her. “I’m in your house." She looked around the room, eying the table and the size of the furniture. "I’m in your house.” When she spoke, it didn’t sound like her voice. She furrowed her brow. “Am I the one talking?”

“You are,” he said, in a firm, yet gentle voice. “Emmy. Can I get you a glass of water? Would you like to have a seat while I get it for you?”

Her head nodded. Her body sat. Soon a glass of water was before her. Emmy’s fingers were careful not to touch his hands. She came in and out of her mind. At times so far into what was happening onscreen that she felt like she was one of the characters. She could hear him tell her to drink. She gripped the glass awkwardly, careful not to even touch where his fingers had been. Dipping a finger to touch just the surface of the liquid. Then alternating, until she could feel exactly where she was and who she was with. She’d dissociated again. Deeper this time. She realized she’d been chewing the inside of her mouth, her tongue feeling the little indentations her teeth had made. She looked over at James’ arms, wanting them around her and glad they weren't.

James leaned over the couch and placed a folded blanket between them. Emmy snatched it up and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Thank you,” she murmured, not sure if she said it out loud. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Emmy leaned on the arm of the couch. Through her peripheral vision she saw James lean back, legs casually on the couch. They watched the rest of the episode in silence. An old man had been abducting children who had not presented, doping up the almost-Alphas making them and their bodies think they were Omegas. Emmy tried hard not to touch any other thoughts in her head. Her eyes got heavy as Ward and Kendrick visited a young Alpha at home, who'd escaped some years ago, putting his life back together. Soon she was halfway asleep, her mind wondering about her own detectives. Was someone working on her case? Would they show up years later?

*****

When next Emmy opened her eyes, she gasped awake, no dream to speak of then, just living in a void until she was on the couch again. Glancing around, she could feel how empty the house was. On the table, she found a note saying James was dropping off the truck and getting donuts and to call if she was against them for breakfast. 

She rubbed her eyes, groaning, dropping the note somewhere near the table, turning back onto the couch, flat on her stomach. In her head, she saw a flash of her in this position, Brock on her back. Emmy popped up, blinking the thought away, contemplating on a shower. No, she didn’t want to be naked for the foreseeable future, even to get clean. 

While brushing her teeth and washing her face, the phone rang. She kept an ear out. A woman from the doctor’s office said she was calling again. Had she really? Emmy didn't remember getting a call. The message continued. Today was the last day to get Emmy’s implant to work on time. It wasn’t until the message ended that Emmy realized how hard she’d been brushing her teeth, her heart beating quick in her chest. Once she finished in the bathroom, she walked back to the phone, saw there were several unheard messages. 

Before she could move, she saw James pumping into her from behind, feeling his knot swollen inside her. Breath hitching, her hands came up to her face like it’d stop it all from burbling up. Emmy grabbed at her neck with her fingertips, and felt Brock's hands squeezing her. She let go, bringing her hands slowly up and wondering if these were really her hands at all. The door lock clicked, James came in with a small white bag, the smell of glaze wafting in with him, his usual soft smile. Her eyes dipped down between his legs and back up again. 

“I didn’t want to wake you. I have glazed and passion fruit pavlova,” he held out the bag.

Emmy stared at it, dipping her thumbnail between her teeth to chew. A normal person would be more appreciative. She looked away, “Shower.” And walked away. When she was in the bathroom, she turned the water on, wet her hair a bit and sat on the floor, while it steamed up inside. She saw them all in her head, felt them, as she rocked with her knees up to her chin. Biting the fleshy part of her hand just until her mind went blank, feeling guilty for wasting his water. Before she made herself go back out, she blanked her brain.

The two ate their donuts and coffee on the couch. Emmy letting him know about her implant forcing the donut down. She had to make herself seem fine now. It should have been delicious.

James swallowed and wiped the corners of his mouth with his thumb, “Good donut?”

Emmy nodded, looking at her knees. Making small talk. It wasn't working.

“Did you want to talk about last night?” He crumpled up the tissue, throwing it in the bag and held the rest of his donut in his other hand. Emmy looked at it. The crinkling sounded nice, comforting somehow.

Another flash. Emmy cleared her throat. She was just having a thing. She searched her brain for what to say next. “Uh, thank you.”

His arms were so close. It would feel so good to have them around her. All those times her body freaked out, she pushed herself. After a while, the feeling always subsided. But when Emmy decided it would be good to try, nausea rushed up making her gag. She looked up at his now concerned expression. 

“I think it was too much sugar. I’m fine,” she tried to smile. 

“Seriously, Em, if you need to talk, I’m right here. I mean, last night...”

She shook her head, nodding and grinning in succession. “I know. I know I can talk to you. But I don’t want to right now. Can we just get my thing, go to the cops or whatever. So we can come back here and I can just not talk again?” She put her head on the couch and sighed. "I'll talk to Mantis. OK?"

“Just as long as you're willing to talk to someone about it. Let me know what I can do. OK? ”

Whatever he was already doing, was exactly it. Except she wished she didn’t have to get another implant in her. If he could help with that, that would be spectacular. 

He handed her a napkin and that lightened everything inside of her.

“Are we gonna eat after this, because...?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“Of course,” James said, mouth full. His hand covering his face as he spoke, making Emmy smile. If it had been anyone else, it would have been a real turn off. He held out the donut to her, Emmy taking a tentative bite, as he watched. “You can take a bigger bite than that. But, I’m not letting you have my donut.” Emmy obliged, even taking a bit of the cream with the tart, yellow, passion fruit at the top. 

Shutting her eyes, she grinned at the mix of sweet, creamy, sour flavors on her tongue. “Mmm… Get one for me next time?” She wiped her mouth, savoring the passion fruit seed. 

"You got it."

She crossed her legs and thought. “Hey, you think the order all that Law and Order stuff is pretty accurate?”

“How do you mean?” James asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin too.

“Detectives always find the victims. Is a deputy enough? ‘Cause Deputy Hill was the only one that talked to me. But on the show…”

James thought a moment, “Yeah, they should have. A detective didn’t talk to you at the Aldermont?”

Emmy shook her head. “Can I borrow your phone?”

 

***

 

“Deputy Hill?”

“It’s Emmy from the uh, house?”

“Emmy, how are you doing now?”

“Good, umm.. Just wondering if I’m going to have a detective assigned to my case?”

Hill clucked her tongue, “You do have a detective assigned to your case. But there’s a lot of red tape surrounding it. Which is why she hasn’t been allowed your new information to get to you.”

Emmy shook her head, blinking for a moment, not believing what she’d just heard, “So how do I fix that?”

“You need to head to a police station to—”

“Why was it restricted though?”

“Just in case things got hairy. It’s the way the law was written, it protected your information from news outlets but it also kept your new address from being released to any one else that didn’t outright aide in your healing, which is the purpose of the law. So your detective hasn’t been allowed to contact you. Go to your precinct and they’ll let her and her partner know that you authorize a lift on your information.”

“Does that mean news outlets will be able to find me now?”

“Not necessarily. But it will mean that they can mention you being a part of what happened now. Your information will be available to law enforcement now and not just Omega centers or psych facilities.”

Emmy chewed just inside her lip. “Do you know? Have they been caught? Any of them?”

“They crossed the Canadian border about a month ago and haven’t been seen since. Emmy, when we get these guys and they’re going away for a long time.” 

“Good,” Emmy said, jaw tight. “Thank you, so much,” and ended the call.

****

“Do I absolutely have to get this?” Emmy asked the nurse.

“No, we can’t make you get the implant—”

“Great!” Emmy got up. 

“But the implant does help prevent accidents. There really is a chance both of you will not be in your right mind. This will help you--”

Emmy shook her head, already feeling the implant in her arm again. “I had one stuck in me for years. It made everything worse. Is there something else I can use?”

The nurse canted her head, confused a moment, “The only other short-term solution is a patch.”

Emmy’s eyes widened. 

"Similar results, but it will lay flat on your skin, instead of being—" 

Emmy nodded, “I’ll have that. I’d rather have something on my skin, than something in it.”

“I’ll notify the doctor,” she nodded and left.

Emmy laughed, slapping her forehead with her palm, giddy. And still a little scared.

After another conversation with the doctor, Emmy finally got a patch. It was sitting just behind her right shoulder. They worked out a schedule with the other patches in the pack she received. And knew now to change it every week on the same day. 

After the doctor’s office, Emmy felt good, better, like everything was going to be OK again. But there was another stop. They put their name on a list at the desk and sat down. Only a few names before them, but each one took about twenty minutes to get through. She and James read through a Time magazine that had someone doing martial arts on the cover. James turned the page abruptly on an article talking about the deaths of a recent soldier overseas. Before they reached the end, they were called up. Emmy gave them her information. Turns out that her detective was out and would give her a call. She signed some sort of release form with a phone number to reach her on and her new address. She almost wanted to take it back, when she saw her paper laid on top of a tray on a desk with a porcelain duck and a few framed black and white pictures she couldn't make out and a teddy bear. Anyone could see it and snatch it up. In the back wall was the small painting of a park, not Monet, but bright and inviting. There were books in the back concerning Omega crimes and laws. Whoever her detective was, they seemed to specialize in cases like hers. The officer at the desk repeated that she'd get a call soon. 

On the way home Emmy wanted to stop by the market and got some ingredients for dinner. James hesitated on getting an Uber or Lyft this time and insisted on walking. It was barely a ways away. It would take longer but they could do it. The station didn't go exactly as planned, but she was still OK and wanted to do something nice for James. Once home, she had him wash and cut the potatoes while she got everything else ready, so he wouldn't have to see the fire on the stove. Afterwards, he was free to do anything else he liked, while Emmy made one of her favorite steaks with a wine reduction sauce. 

When James emerged next, he was wearing a light blue button down and slacks and the nicest dress socks. 

Emmy cocked her head, glancing down at her t-shirt and jeans, “Hey, that’s not fair! I’m not wearing anything fancy.”

“A top-notch dinner requires getting a bit spiffed up.” He crossed his ankles and spun around. 

Emmy rolled her eyes, shaking a wooden spoon at him. “You’re lucky the steak needs a rest.” 

He held his arms out and smirked, "Or what?"

She could have kissed him right then, but he was too far. Looking back to make sure the stove was off, she left everything to rush off and shower. "Now, you get to wait."

When she came back to the table, she was wearing a polkadot dress, looking partially dejected, as her hair was still wet from the shower, dripping over her shoulders and onto the carpet at times. James was standing at the island with ready plates of food, mashed potatoes already scooped, sauce already in a dish. Not the dish she would have picked, but she didn't tell him that.

“Dining room or couch?”

“I thought we were being fancy?” Emmy squinted one eye.

“Fancy, but comfortable,” James grinned. He cocked his head, "Did you want some wine or a beer?" 

Emmy thought a moment. "No, I think I'm good." James hesitated, but poured them both waters instead.

Bringing the food over to coffee table and all the other little things, they set up their little dinner. Instead of eating immediately, James raised a finger, got up, and pulled a clean dish towel to the ends of Emmy's hair, making her giggle. It felt nice. Emmy tried to wait, but kept looking at the glistening steak. This was one of her favorite things to make and James would actually be eating it. She cut two pieces popping one in her mouth and then holding out her fork for him to take his piece.

His eyes widened, chewing, looking at his fork. “Oh, wow.”

Emmy brought her fingers up to her mouth, “Yeah? That good.” Seeing him react to her food warmed her up inside.

"Yeah, that good!" he laughed, dipping his head near hers but pulling back. "Hey, if this was any night before, I’d have kissed you already. But after last night... Can I kiss you?”

It made Emmy happy to hear, she'd even wanted to earlier, but now, she hesitated. “Not right now. OK?”

****

They watched the last bit of a romantic movie from years ago when a commercial for Dateline popped up. James was washing the dishes. Immediately, Emmy felt cold, her stomach twisting, while she watched the promo for “Horror at Prospect Park.” They showed pictures of the old house and a black and white photo of the other Omegas on the lawn. Emmy stopped breathing. The parents of the young girls, teary-eyed talking about their daughters. It was repeatedly stated there were only five victims. Emmy knew one day, that would change.

James walked over. Emmy quickly shut the TV off. 

“You good?”

Emmy knew if it ever got out, she’d face a media frenzy. And for right now she was safe. Would Brock and the others come back for her? She tried to reassure James with a smile.

Later in bed, Emmy waited for James to get in. She thought of grinding onto him, needing to feel him unmistakably around her, but couldn't tell if she wanted to genuinely do anything. She felt like she should. But when he rolled over to his side, she was disappointed and cold. Maybe a little kiss before they went on to sleep would make her feel better. She tapped his shoulder. James turning to her. She scooted closer so that she could feel each his breaths on her neck. "We can kiss now."

He shut his eyes, leaning forward, their lips touching. But she needed more and pulled his arms around her waist, moving so that she was flush against him, realizing he wasn't hard. She put her hand out to feel him, to which he promptly brushed her off. "Em, what are you doing?" 

Something inside her wanted him. "Do you want do it again?" She was smiling but as soon as she said it, worry boiled in her stomach. 

He swallowed, even in the darkness she could see his Adam's apple bob, his jaw clench, before looking up at her through hooded eyes. "Do you really want to?"

She tried to assess how she was feeling, knew she needed to feel him close but didn't know exactly how she felt or what she wanted; only knowing that having him inside her would make her feel better.

"What do you want?" he pressed. 

For a moment, she didn't know what he wanted her to say, "Fuck-fuck me." Was that it? It felt wrong. Something, somewhere else telling her that was right.

"Is that what you want?"

It sounded wrong. "What did you think about last time?" She tried to hold his gaze, but ended up looking at their hands, so close, but still not touching. She watched his teeth nip the inside of his lip. 

"Everything but the last part," he said, kissing the top of her head, stroking her hair. 

Emmy nodded, she reached up and brought his neck to her nose and scented him, calm washing over her. She leaned her head on his chest.

Earlier, James didn't want to take an Uber or a Lyft going home. She wanted to ask, but stopped. Realizing, she already knew, just like he did when she snapped at him. They were going through the same thing at different points.

"That was seriously one of the best steaks I've had."

"I'll make you another one next time. A pepper steak. Get ready," Emmy grinned and turned around, pushing back into him, all the while wrapping his arm tight around her. Taking his hand up, she kissed the scent gland on his wrist.

James cleared his throat, "Maybe, I'll stay in the kitchen with you."

Emmy's eyes popped open, fingers playing on the lines in his palm now. "Are you sure? I can do it myself for as long as you want."

"Not making any promises. But, since it's you, I wanna try, at least."


	17. Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This break was not meant to take this long. I've been having some mental health things. But I think I'm getting better now; so writing! :D

James' sleep skirted between deep and shallow. Far enough below consciousness that he hadn’t moved, he suspected, the whole night. His arm felt tighter on him like someone had taken a handful of tiny clothes pins pulling his skin, stitching everything closer together, so that his arm was held tighter and hotter than he rest of him. He turned to take Emmy in his arms, to distract himself, focus just on her. It helped, anticipating her wants or needs so that when things burbled up in his mind, he usually had something else that was more important, especially now. Last month at the farewell barbecue, he'd seen the date and knew exactly what was coming up for him. Adjusting with Emmy had kept his mind away from it all, up until just last week. He'd been hearing metal crunching or fuel burning in the darkness of his dreams, the smell of charcoal which he knew, wasn’t charcoal at all. 

He stretched his arms out on the bed, squinting up at the ceiling. A feeling pressing him into his bed, familiar. At most, his funks wouldn't last more than a week now. But that didn't count those weeks or months he only ever had four hours of sleep or kept waking up until it was time to fully get up. 

Emmy was always the last one out of bed. As far as he knew, she’d gotten somewhere safe and been cared for, believed when she first got out of the complex. With time, patience and understanding from someone who’d been through a world of nightmares himself, she wouldn’t deal with PTSD. He started out not being able to sleep, drinking to coax his brain into some sort of rest, couldn’t deal with smells without going into a stupor. But maybe this wasn’t the start of anything. Emmy would be fine. He’d make sure. As much as he was able. 

Pulling down the hem of his sleeve, he exposed his shoulder to finger the ridge of skin, running his hand down. All those surgeries. He’d found himself sucking and chewing on a bit of his cheek, biting back a twinge of disgust. In his head, he saw them all jostling on the craggy, dust road, suddenly a blinding, hot light flashed and then the thud. He groaned, pulling the pillow over his head. There was nothing else he wanted more than to lay in bed and listen to Radiohead, but they had things to do. 

When James walked through the hall, he listened to musical timbre of a newscaster’s spiel. Curious. He’d never seen Emmy that interested in the news before, so he guessed she might be asleep. His first instinct was to reach out, but he kept his hand back and instead walked with intent, footsteps that told her he was in the room and on his way over. There were times he startled easily, cars backfiring in the street. And nothing was worse than someone just popping up beside him.

He glanced the gloomy day through the curtains. Probably still early morning. He whispered, laying a hand on the back of the couch, “Em?” He reeled back, surprised to see Emmy turn so quickly.

Music suddenly swelled on the TV as dramatic actors faded in and out. His eyes focused. He used to watch these with his mom. But knew they were only shown in the late mornings, and looked back out through the windows. Goddamn if it was a cloudy day. “What time is it?” He reached down for the remote and pressed ‘info.' Damn. 

Emmy blinked the sleep from her eyes, stretching back over the couch like a cat, making his brain wonder things he felt guilty about. She saw 11:01 on the bar on screen. “Shit, oh shit! Oh, crap!" And bolted for the bathroom. James changed his clothes, not thinking, raising his arms high. Groaning when he felt something small and sharp cut between his skin and graft. As soon as the door opened, Emmy ran to her room and James brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face his app already starting on his phone before they were out the door. Teeth tight realizing the pool was gonna get them there the fastest. The solo ride was still seven minutes out. This was not his fucking morning. 

When the car got there, James' jaw twitched when he saw that shotgun had already been taken. And a woman had already taken the backseat to the left. Sunter’s seat on that ride. Blown out, but alive. His head kept telling him he couldn’t let Emma take the center seat, like she’d meet the same fate. James had a hard lump form in his throat. That’s when he noticed Emmy watching him, concerned. She maneuvered around him so she’d sit first. But he held her back, forcing a grin. “Let’s go.” And went ahead. 

She looked back as they piled into the backseats, “But, James…”

“You don’t have to worry ‘bout a thing,” he said, nodding his head. The woman had her face buried in her phone, so he let panic wash over his face for the moment Emmy couldn’t see. He buckled up his seat belt clenching his fists, as his chest burned, so she couldn’t see his hands shake. He took his mind through the steps counting green things, blue, breathing, focusing on how he was sitting and telling himself that this was just another car ride. In his mind, he kept seeing that desert road stretch ahead of them. A neighbor wheeled out a recycling bin and imagined the moment it popped down, the IED inside tearing through the street. He leaned over and patted Emmy’s thigh, keeping his face straight. “When we get there. Just run up. I’ll catch you afterward. ‘K?” He tried his best to keep his voice light. He almost wished he’d never told her about everything that happened. Lie and pretend it didn’t exist. This was just a bad morning and they both would get through it.

Emmy laced her hands with his, but never looked over at him, and squeezed. He focused on her hands. He was stateside. He was home. God, he was so close to kissing her then.

 

***

 

Emmy ran up the stairs and through the hall, two people in front of her. She checked the wall clock. Miraculously, she was just a few minutes late. But she shifted her weight back and forth, until it was her turn. 

“Mmm…” She cast her eyes over. “Mmmm…” the receptionist repeated. It took Emmy a moment to remember the woman she first spoke with, wanted to thank her for helping her, but the other one called her over before she was through.

Inside, Emmy had her hands on some more putty, white with colorful speckles, but no scent this time. Mantis did the same. “So, how are you doing?” Her pleasant tone coaxed Emmy into a deeper pool of calm. Her body coming down from the buzzing of sudden activity. She thought of James. He’d been having a tough few days it looked like. Like she would really know. Really they hadn’t known each other for that long. All she did was cook and then offer him sex at her expense. Best Omega ever. What could she do? She supposed she could ask. But where was the fun in that. And she was kinda sick of cooking. She wanted something new to do for him. “I cooked for him last night. He really like it,” she shrugged. They still needed to talk about that night.

“That’s wonderful, Emmy.” She tucked her leg under her in the seat. Today, Mantis had on a frilly baby blue dress, made Emmy want to go shopping. “And what else do you do? And more concerns? Progress?”

Emmy smiled. Feeling embarrassed and proud all at once. “I just cook for him. Cuz he doesn’t. He’s sort of afraid of fire. I cook for him a lot. Umm…” She saw a flash of their bellies together, her wrist twitched. 

Mantis scooted up, balling her putty. “Is there anything else that you do for yourself? Apart from James? I saw you like to read about WWII and a lot of other stuff. Or have you been doing any Krav Maga?”

Emmy looked away, shaking her head. She’d stopped doing all those things. That girl had sort of fallen away from her since she’d started to stay with James. Strange. She shrugged and thought. “I don’t know. I just stopped.”

“Well, do you have an interest to continue any of those things?”

Again, Emmy shrugged. “I don’t know I just want to make him things and… and… ‘Be’ with him?”

“Intimately?”

Emmy twisted in her seat. She hadn’t eaten anything and acid was starting to turn in her stomach. She nodded. 

“Do you plan on being intimate? Or have you two already—?“

“Yes.” Emmy swallowed, heat creeping up her neck and cheeks. “Uh, just the once," she said, barely audible. Her body felt the duty. She was meant to take his knot. It felt like her breath pulled together hot, in the center of her torso, thick, growing. 

"And how was that?" She shifted in her seat, with a smile Emmy could make out in the corner of her eye. 

"It was—good. He was nice. It was... Umm..." She didn't want to say the words, Like if she never said them it wasn't real.

Mantis gave her a small encouraging smile. “So you have yourself a considerate Alpha? It’s really important to have someone to—“

"A good Alpha, yes.” A part of her was screaming at her. Incensed. He wasn't the kind to want to hurt her, but she needed it. She was meant to submit. That was the world before. But it was normal to feel, wasn’t it? “Sometimes…” She pulled her fingers in, touching her tips to the top of her palms. “I—I, uh think it's normal for him to hurt me. I think I want it.”

Mantis' brows furrowed. “Wait, he hurts you?"

“I want him to. I—I expect him to. I think I ask him to?” Was that right? She couldn’t remember. “But the only time he does is when we are together." Her face screwed saying those words. She knew that made him sound terrible and watched Mantis' face scrunch and her lips purse. “Oh no. No, nonono.” She shook her head. “He is the kindest and gentlest Alpha I've ever known. It felt good. But somehow we were in the—the, that position where he was behind me and his… And then his…Umm,” She made a fist. And kept trying to say the word, instead she kept making a fist and showing it to her. 

"His knot expanded."

Emmy shut her eyes and nodded. Suddenly woozy. She looked down, petting her hair, could feel it like it was inside her now, ”After they took the implant out, I thought it wasn’t supposed hurt anymore.”

“So it was pleasurable up until he was to climax.”

Emmy nodded, teeth clenched. A weight was pressing down on her shoulders. 

Mantis planted both feet down on the carpet again and leaned forward. “Do you know why that is?”

"I don't know. That’s what happened with the…With the one in Oregon. Ones,” she whispered.

"And have you both talked about it? Afterwards?”

Emmy shook her head. ”I didn’t want to. Sometimes I just offer myself.” She rolled the putty into a ball, copying Mantis and placed it on the lid. She drew her feet up.

“Why do you think that its?”

“Because I had to do that. Before.”

“And now?”

“I don’t have to. But I keep thinking I still need to. I almost want him to. I feel like he has to.”

Mantis looked at her, concerned but never pitying. “Close your eyes. I want you to imagine James before you. In an ideal world, what do you want.”

She knew what she always wanted. All the good stuff. With her eyes shut, Emmy saw James hugging her, kissing her on her forehead. Those were the best. Then she heard a gruff voice, “Get into position for your Alpha.” Emmy swallowed hard as the daydream darkened. Heartbeat quickening. Excited. She needed this.

Mantis’s soft voice brought her up. ”Let's say you two have sex and his knot expands. But the very next time you feel exquisite pleasure. It's everything you thought you could never have.” Emmy’s belly twitched. “How would do you feel about that?"

Emmy thought, imagined it but instead felt anger. “No.” It wasn’t right. 

“No? Emmy…”

Emmy breathed hard, grinding her teeth together. Pain. There had to be a way to get him to hurt her. Brock knew what to do. He was the only one who knew what to give her. He was a real Alpha. Her eyes widened. What the hell was she thinking? There had to be a way for her to get him to do exactly what she wanted. All that time without it. 

Her breaths were coming fast and hot. Her thoughts and emotions barreling around her body. 

James was a liar. It was all inside him. He’d suppressed it, but she’d see it sometime— 

"What did you think he'd do if you asked him to do exactly what you think he should do to you?"

Emmy laughed, bitter, biting. The questions shocked everything into a frozen bath. Her thoughts made her sick. She realized. She knew. ”He wouldn’t." The old thoughts of Brock turned sour and terrifying in her head. Everything shifted again. "I don't want James to hurt me. When it happened. I couldn't see his face, I could only feel what he was doing to me and I... my body kept thinking it was them. And I was panicking. But he was stuck. And I felt ugly. And I hated him. I hate it.” She still wanted it. It felt good to have him inside her. 

“You were hurt for so long with the same body parts that were supposed to make you feel good. It's going to take a long time before you can work through that trauma. But I think you have a good partner to help you.” Mantis offered her a soft smile. Emmy returned it, nodding. “Do you use any artificial slick? It should help with some of the pain.”

“I haven’t. But we have some. I thought that my body would just take care of everything now. Like how it’s supposed to,” she let her voice turn to sarcasm. 

“It could be psychosomatic or something that your body has to earn how to do again. But for this you have to be patient. I think if it gets too uncomfortable, you should talk to a doctor. OK?” Mantis smiled a moment. At first it all hurt, everything they talked about, but despite the harder beat of her heart, a weight was lifted from her. Her eyes flashed up to the clock in time for her to hear Mantis say, “And we are just about out of time.”

Emmy smiled and nodded. Her breath squirmed out in her throat. 

“I need you to make a list of the things you want to do for James and the things you want to do for yourself. I want you to make sure for every one thing you do for him, you do two for yourself. Just yourself.” Something in her voice made Emmy want to look up at her. She scribbled something on a paper, handing it over with a look so full of faith. “Dr. Faustus is one of the leading minds on Omega-Alpha brain dynamics. I suggest you read up on him. Might give you some insight on a few things. You’re a smart girl.” She stood. Emmy followed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When Emmy walked into the lobby, she caught one of the receptionists gaping at James. He looked up at Emmy with bright eyes, oblivious. “How was it?” 

She ran into his embrace, squeezing him as hard as she could, overcome with too much fucking emotion. How could she want all those things at once? What was going on with her brain? “Good.” They walked to the door hands clasped, something made Emmy turn back and saw a layer of annoyance shift on the receptionist’s face and they were in the hall waiting for the elevator. 

Emmy studied James’ face and traced the underside of his jaw with her fingertip. “Are you doing OK? You can talk to me.”

James shook his head, with a smile. “I’m fine.” He kissed her forehead.

“You’re always awake before I am. And the the other day you said…”

“Not here. And after a few pitstops. I have a surprise for you.”

Emmy frowned but was satisfied with that answer for now. 

“Ready for a walk?”

It was as good a time as ever to look up the doctor Mantis mentioned. It took her a few tries to get to his name as she forgot his name and had to try several searches to even get to what his name was. 

His name wasn’t familiar, but he’d written a lot of books and articles on Omegas. In one article, Dr. Faustus proposed that certain Omegas were predisposed to anticipate the needs of their Alpha. She scoffed. It went on to say that Omegas from abusive or turbulent homes were more likely to become near-completely subservient to their Alpha, especially kind ones. Almost losing all interests that didn’t serve their Alpha, deferring to them their whims, wishes, needs, and predispositions. Emmy scoffed, frowning. “Fuck you,” she muttered.

“What are you reading?” James peered over, while Emmy pulled the phone away. She felt bad, it was his phone. 

“No?” he asked with a coy smile. 

Emmy’s breath stopped in her throat. Denying her Alpha. She looked up, recoiling, asking permission to stand by her choice. 

“Will I get to know at some point. I think I should know what got that reaction out of you.”

“I don’t know.” She looked down, so close to just handing him the phone back. Before she realized it, she was handing it back open article and everything. More than anything she understood the feeling underneath it all. She was expecting him to ignore her requests. It was just what she was used to. One day it wouldn’t be like that. He pushed it back in her hands. “We are almost there.”

 

She kept reading. This doctor didn’t know her. Most Omegas who knew this was happening could eventually curb these instincts. Of course. That’s how a lot of things worked. 

“Thank you,” she said, handing the phone back to James before taking a moment to get rid of her tab. She looked around and found that they were a few blocks just east of the house, but they’d never been in the exact area before. “OK, but where are we going exactly?” Was that being her own person? Questioning things. It was weird being hyperaware of all this stuff. 

“I’m not spoiling the surprise,” James singsonged, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. A man shouted and slammed the back of his truck door down. James jumped and yanked Emmy around to brace himself over her, eyes wide, breathing hard. He dropped his arms, pulling back, before most of his panic drained his features.

“James?” Emmy said, reaching up to thumb his brow. 

“Give me a sec.” He rubbed a hand over his face, giving out one long groan. “This is just something that happens. It goes away.” He put his hand in hers, taking his hands away every so often. Wordlessly wiping them, before taking her hands in his again. "I was thinking you should have your own phone by now.” They stopped in front of a Verizon, where James added her to his account and she had the pick of the store. 

On their way, they had lunch at a Thai place while Emmy did what she always did with a new phone. It’d been so long. She’d forgotten how much she loved figuring out a new phone. Emmy customized as much as she could before the short amount of battery life already on the phone could crap out on her. Once back at home, Emmy touched James' arm, “You doing better? Is there anything I can do when you get like that?”

James smiled and kissed her cheek. “Next month is the anniversary of the attack. It’s just getting to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Emmy wrapped her arms around him, while he kissed the top of her head.

He pulled back and smiled, sadness lingering in it that made her heart ache and her stomach flutter. It was then that she noticed just how beautiful he was. She’d thought he was handsome before but he looked different to her now. She wanted to thank him for not wanting to hurt her, for not needing to. She kept telling herself that that was normal. He was a normal Alpha. And now he needed her. “I think I want to talk about what happened with us the other night. I—”

There was a knock at the door. “NYPD.” It was a woman’s voice. Emmy could smell the clove and nutmeg even through the door. James’ nostrils gave the slightest flare, signaling to her he could smell it too. An Alpha.


	18. How Long

The first thing Emmy did was tell James to leave. Detective Peggy Carter needed her to recount her entire experience over at Prospect Park. It didn’t matter that it was on her file at Aldermont, most of it on file with the local station there. Or that the detective could have easily gone to Mantis. She’d give her expressed consent for it. But even as she’d said the words she knew what she had to do, but she just didn’t want James to be around for it. James offered to grab some takeout for dinner, do a bit of grocery shopping for the time being.

When he had opened the door for Detective Carter, Emmy could feel his energy fly up, taking a step backwards that told her his Alpha instincts had woken up, if only for a moment. But it also made Emmy want to sit and her throat seize up, before a last soft look from him set her loose. 

Peggy Carter had a thick mane of dark brown waves and an air of control and confidence, with clear, alert eyes. Emmy was instantly jealous, but maybe it wasn’t that exactly. She’d encountered very few female Alphas in her life. Treated once as an anomaly. They were now somewhat common, but she’d only known that from news headlines. She maybe met only one or two in her short life. One thing was sure, they smelled better than their male counterparts. Robust, but inviting, something kindred in it. The way she moved so deliberate, graceful yet not threatening. And there, there was also a slight lilt of an English accent in her voice. She gestured with an assuring, wide smile. “We can sit where you like.” 

Emmy scanned around and thought to sit at the dinner table. Hard surfaces would be better for this. She swallowed, and pointed. “The, uh, dining room table.” Peggy passed her, carrying a soft laptop bag and settling back down, her scent swam around Emmy. Emmy chewed her lips and tried to calm her stuttering heart. There was no shame in it. She was simply appreciating another Alpha, a detective. With power. 

She identified Brock’s and Pierce’s pictures. As soon as she saw the latter’s short blond hair, her wrist flew into her mouth. Emmy bit down hard enough to leave marks, rocking in her seat. Peggy touched her wrist, half allowing Emmy to scent her to calm, before pulling it back down. They went into talking, how Brock got her, Emmy’s studies until that last night. She’d drunk a cold glass of water, feeling better about seeing Pierce’s face again. He was bigger than his half-brother.

“The steroids they took to be able to knot Omegas. When we uncovered Pierce’s body about a half a year ago, we discovered some of the effects. Abusing these substances for so long destroys the liver and kidneys.”

Emmy nodded, but she’d stopped breathing, trying to digest exactly what the detective was saying. “Pierce sort of discovered it. His brother was more than happy to take part.”

“Even if we do not catch them now. We may not have to wait long. But there’s more. And they need to answer for what they’ve done. I will make sure of it.”

Emmy couldn’t keep the satisfied smirk from her lips from what Peggy just said and the blooming knowledge of the other Alphas, “Pierce died from fucking his organs up. And the rest will too. Right?”

Peggy nodded, “It depends on the individual’s strength, age, and a few other factors. A few may still have years left.”

Emmy swallowed that down. Brock.

Peggy patted her shoulder. Her hand was warm, firm and Emmy wanted nothing more than the kind touch. “I have something I need you to look at.” 

Emmy wanted to make a joke, hoping it wasn’t dead bodies, but stayed quiet. She shifted in her seat as she pulled out a tablet from her bag and swiped through before pushing the picture of a young woman to her. “Do you know who is this?” Dread twisted quick around Emmy. Damn. She shook her head. 

Peggy swiped through as she spoke. “She was reported missing near Rockford, Illinois about a month ago. And through our efforts we snagged this.” 

A video played. Blurry, but clear enough. Emmy remembered their movements. She could still smell their scents as if they were all in the same room. The one with the thinnest head, the shortest, whose strength only matched Brock’s. Emmy pointed. “Jack. That’s Jack Rollins.” Her heart picked up, she saw the night she escaped, smelled the pine in the air and heard the thuds of his and Brock’s fists on each other. She was alive, here, because of Brock. Among the shapes and faces, he was missing. Emmy could see him in his hometown, waiting for her. Couldn’t help the pang of guilt in her gut. She’d promised. He saved her life. Given her money. And she left him. Her mouth pursed.

“And the rest of the Alphas?” 

Emmy was only half-paying attention. The rest of her knew that it was all true, but she didn’t belong with Brock. Fuck that. She hated her Omega brain. Clearing her throat, “I only have one name for the others, but most of them sound like they could be either first or last names.” 

“That’s alright. It’ll be a start. ”Peggy nodded and tapped on her phone she pulled out and typed as Emmy spoke. 

“Jack Rollins.” Embarrassment heated her cheeks. She’d already mentioned him. Was she just supposed to list all of them or the ones she hadn’t mentioned.? “Michael or Michael’s, Jones, Cole, and Davis or Davies.” A breath shuddered out of her, as she leaned back into her chair. A part of her wanted to leave, she must smell awful to Peggy now. She fought the urge to apologize. “You don’t have him. You don’t have…” Her mouth sounded out his name before she could say it aloud. “Brock. Where is he?”

“We lost him over the Canadian border.”

“So, what should I do?” She tugged her hair and tucked her legs underneath her. Her chest tightened.

“Right now you’ve done everything we need you to do. This has been a big help. Our team just needs to do the rest.”

“Should I move? What if they’re coming here? Or he. He might try—!”

“From their movements. It seems like getting to you is not a priority. They may be more concerned with getting caught. We can move you and I can make a call and have a car out front for you.”

“Did they take her? That girl you showed me?” She wanted it confirmed. 

“We have reason to believe so.”

Emmy nodded. They should. She hoped she was dead already. 

Peggy handed her a card. “Here is my card. Call me if you need anything or remember anything else. The car. A move? Alright?”

Emmy nodded. “Thank you.” She wanted the detective gone. Nothing would be better than to have James’ arms around her, to have his scent. 

Peggy wanted to wait until James came back, which Emmy both appreciated and resented. This whole thing was fucked. She could feel all of it bubbling back up. 

“I’m a bit surprised he hadn’t programmed it into your phone the second you got it.”

“He’s not one of those Alphas.”

“Even so.”

Emmy frowned, thinking. “You have a British accent, right?”

“Ah. Born in London. Only went back for university. Hence the accent—”

Keys jangled and the door swung open. James walked in. Scent noticeabley subdued. Emmy knew he was displeased. But his bags of food distracted her. Emmy stayed back. Maybe he was mad that she’d shooed him away earlier. She grinned inside, a part of her utterly gleeful in the hope that he’d finally backhand her. 

“You’re welcome to stay for dinner. We have more than enough.” He lay the bags of groceries and hot food on the kitchen island.

Emmy shot him a look.

“We can always order more if we need it. Detective?” He looked back at Emmy and smiled. She hung on it. He’d been gone an hour or two. Everything felt lighter now that he was here. But she felt like the wrong thing. 

Peggy packed her things back in her bag. “It’s been a long day. And I actually need to get to the paperwork stacked beautifully on my desk. I appreciate the offer. Mr. Barnes.”

Once she’d left, Emmy walked over to the table where James had set the bags down. “How did it go?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her. He looked different. She knew something happened on his walk out. And they had another Omega with them. 

“Hungry?” he kissed the side of her forehead, 

She wanted to ask if he was OK, instead she stared at him, glancing over too many times as they set up their dinner. “We might get them. They’re trying to track ‘em.” He went on to eat as he liked, offering her more orange chicken or Mongolian beef, while Emmy ate a few pieces here and there with only a scoop of rice. 

He peered at her as he handed her the box of braised string beans. “What is it?” 

“Did something happen outside?” She needed him to punish her. 

He gave her a slanted smile. “Not exactly,” he said, as lolled his head around. 

Emmy watched him, chewing. 

“You know I got buddies? Overseas?”

She nodded. 

“One of them is actually back here and has been for a few days already.” He punctuated his words here and there. “Sam just called asking about Steve’s ‘condition.’” Emmy noted a moment where James’ jaw clenched. “The one that sketched all my pictures. Steve is at Walter Reed right now,” James huffed, a hint of a smile on his lips that came and went. 

“Did you want to visit him?”

“We’re gonna wait on that,” he chuckled. “He’ll call.” And he seemed frustrated, annoyed, and worried at once. 

When they watched TV on the couch, James clicked through the channels. But Emmy spotted a face. “Wait, go back.” But instead, she took the remote and circled around till a familiar blurry video played again. The program named them, posting their pictures to get the public’s help. Seeing their faces on the screen like that, made Emmy’s chest feel heavy. She switched the channel to something else and told James she was gonna take a bath and get ready for bed. As she got up she heard “breaking news” and her name, the one they’d taken. Emmy could feel and imagine what they were doing to her. They were getting it all out on the news now. Good. 

Suddenly, she could feel them in her mouth and in her, their hard hands pulling and pushing at her. 

 

Emmy stood before James, wearing one of his shirts the hem just barely covering everything. “I need you to do something for me.”

James gave her an incredulous look, watching. Before she spoke, she read sadness on his face. And knew he knew. 

“They took another Omega. I know what’s happening to her.”

James reached up and pulled her down onto the bed to him. She purposefully leaned her nose away from the scent gland on his neck. “Is that what you and Detective Carter discussed?”

“James,” she said, looking down. “Just this once. Hit me. I deserve it. If I had done this better, they wouldn’t have taken her. I can feel it all of it.” She ran her hands over her arms. Ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth. “I can’t stand it. It’s like it’s happening to me again and it’ll be better if you do it. I give you permission. Just take all your frustrations out on me. Do what you want. It’s OK. I just can’t do this .” She bit her wrist again and screamed, her flesh obscuring her mouth enough that the scream couldn’t be heard outside. 

He cupped the back of her head, “Shh,” and rocked her. 

“No…” Emmy wailed. “They’re fucking her. I let that happen. I just hope something happened and they accidentally kill her or she runs and then she falls before they have her for too long.” Emmy twists, unsatisfyingly out of his embrace, like he’s sand. Rage paints her face, furrowing her brows, “And I’m here with you!” She points. Why was he so nice, so good to her? 

“I have so many things I want to tell you, just to help you feel better. But really there isn’t. Shit doesn’t make sense. People die. People that are better than you. People get hurt. And people survive. You can’t help her. I’m sorry. But you can’t help her. What happened to her, you didn’t do that. You didn’t.” His words were firm, as his hand caressed her back. “If anyone needs to suffer, it’s those Alphas.” James spat the last word. “Not you. Understand?”

“Let’s visit your friend after my appointment.”

James nodded. “Maybe that’ll be good.”

In her head she hoped the girl didn’t suffer. Maybe she wasn’t taken at all and the police were wrong. The police would find them all and bring them to justice. And soon what they’d done to themselves to just hurt them all would come back to those fucking Alphas. 

***

That night Emmy dreamed she was both herself and the girl, running from them in the night. She could hear and scent them coming closer as she hid under and empty shelf. But she saw broken glass and plunged it into her stomach. They’d never get her now. She was glad of it.


End file.
